Leaving Atlantis
by dreamer one
Summary: At first, he thought she was dead. Then he worried what had been done to her was worse than death. Perhaps it was simply the beginning of a greater adventure. Sam and the Pegasus Galaxy might never be the same again. SJ story; SGA crossover
1. Chapter 1 Grief

LEAVING ATLANTIS

Chapter 1: Grief

He couldn't remember ever feeling so empty. It was as if someone sucker punched him. Only this time, the punch landed directly in his heart. When the malevolent fist was removed, its greedy fingers had ripped out everything of meaning, shredding all of it before his eyes.

He'd watched the tape provided him by Atlantis. He'd seen her left behind by her own order. It was something he would have done.

He'd watched helplessly as the lone Wraith approached her, preparing to feed. He'd silently screamed for her as the creature touched her lovely body and her face became frozen in dread and pain.

Then all had gone black. The videotaped record of ultimate destruction had ended with the blast.

Jack O'Neill had no idea where to go from here. Past experience of loss told him he would survive. Frankly, he wasn't sure about that, not this time. Drawing breath without Sam Carter by his side, well, it seemed pointless. Sure, she'd been light years away in Atlantis, but she'd been with him in every other way this past year. They'd had a year of married love and devotion, the culmination of years of waiting and sacrifice.

It hadn't been enough.

Still he'd never dishonor her memory by taking his own life. It would be so easy, but she wouldn't want it, wouldn't want him, not that way.

Sometime today, he would need to leave his office. Sometime today, he'd have to get out of this chair, get on with business. He'd be expected to go to Atlantis, help them mourn their leader and eventually, plan his wife's memorial service. But not now; right now, he would simply continue to breathe, trace the contours of her beautiful face on the photo he held in his hands and remember her kiss. Yes, that's what he would do for now.

It was as much as he could do.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Short and definitely not sweet, I know.

Rest assured the next chapters will explain what's happened. Then we'll go from there.

And yes, I have every intention of writing the final chapter for Unbroken. This is simply a plot bunny that's been itching to get out.

Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2 Lost

Chapter 2: Lost

(Dr. Keller's recollections …)

I'm a relative newcomer to Atlantis. As the expedition's chief medical officer, it's my responsibility to get to know everyone, on some level, particularly as it relates to their physical health.

In the nine months I've been here, getting to know all my potential patients has been a challenge on many different levels. First of all, nearly everyone here respected and liked Dr. Beckett. The idea of anyone replacing him didn't make them particularly happy. I'm sure being a woman and younger than they expected didn't help a lot either. For the first couple weeks, I thought I'd start crying and beg to go back home. Fortunately that passed.

And then someone else came to replace a lost expedition member. Of course this person hadn't actually died; she'd been captured by the Replicators. From what people here tell me, that's close to being dead. So close in fact, that much of the base mourned her. The rest, her team foremost among them, were determined to find her and bring her home.

Sam Carter had her work cut out for her. Stepping in as commander after the loss of Dr. Weir was a tall order. There were lots of expectations, preconceived ideas and fears about further militarization of the base waiting for her. Even I felt bad for her. I'd been here all of one month at the time. Still I knew how hard it could be.

I've got to admit, I was amazed by how she handled the pressure. Low key, few demands, no drastic changes, Colonel Carter's arrival in Atlantis was a study in understatement.

A solid, trustworthy presence whose reputation as a brilliant scientist and an accomplished soldier preceded her, most everyone seemed to feel they were in good hands. And when the going got rough, she never failed to step up to the plate.

I watched her closely, not to judge her, but to learn about gaining the respect of these people. After all, here was another woman thrown into a leadership position after tragedy stole a much loved member of this close knit community. And she was experienced, much more so than me. I watched her, got to know her. She was someone who wasn't afraid to show caring and compassion for others. At the same time, she would go toe to toe with the toughest of them when the situation presented itself. And she could handle herself physically, something I envied greatly. Give her a P-90 and she was hell on wheels. We quickly learned she'd never ask any of us to do something she hadn't or wouldn't do herself. And if necessary, she _would_ do it herself.

So when Colonel Carter joined the team for a trip to our new Alpha site, no one was surprised. After all, she was commander of the base and needed to be aware of how construction was coming along. After a few aborted attempts, we'd concentrated our efforts on developing a rather out of the way planet as an emergency evacuation site for Atlantis.

Rodney, Dr. Zelenka and Colonel Carter had spearheaded much of the construction, depending as it did on state of the art Ancient technology, particularly when it came to shields and weaponry. The final product had been more than two years in the making. I'd already visited on three occasions, putting the finishing touches on the very impressive medical facility housed on the site. Yesterday's visit was a grand opening of sorts, a celebration of engineering triumph and human determination to defeat those who would destroy Atlantis.

Cameras had been set up in the control room of the Alpha site to transmit the festivities back to Atlantis. Colonel Carter had hoped those personnel who could not be present would be able to share in the pride and recognition of a job well done by all. The celebration, such as it was would be well documented.

We weren't expecting trouble. Sure we brought a security team to back up the handful of soldiers and researchers already in place on the site, but that was no more than procedure. Ronon was armed to the teeth as usual. (I swear he'd bring his gun to a wedding if someone didn't stop him.) Sheppard, Teyla, McKay and I were armed as well, as we would be for any off world venture. None of us anticipated having to use our weapons. This was a celebration.

Or so we thought.

OoOoOo

They weren't supposed to know the location of the Alpha site, just like they weren't supposed to know how to access Midway.

The visit began pleasantly enough. Everyone was in high spirits. Colonel Carter and the rest of team toured the facility, finally ending up in the control room where the formal dedication of the facility was to take place. It was there we received the first warning of trouble.

Long range sensors detected three Wraith cruisers headed directly for us. At first, everyone was stunned. But as usual, we snapped into action, raising shields, notifying Atlantis and requesting backup. We thought we had time and technology on our side. Little did we know, the cruisers we detected were _the Wraith's backup. _The first wave was already in our midst.

No more than five minutes after the initial alarm sounded, the first Wraith was spotted, making his way to the control room. Cameras throughout the base detected nearly a dozen of his co-conspirators, easily neutralizing the unsuspecting skeleton security crews stationed throughout the site.

One thing for sure from the start, our options were limited. We'd brought a total of ten team members with us for this visit. I remember trying to think positive. The best I could do was to remind myself there would be limited loss of life resulting from this debacle. Not exactly a positive outcome, however you look at it.

Our hopes of receiving help from Atlantis were dashed when we realized the cruisers were upon us. They'd taken up orbit and as luck would have it, the Alpha site had an orbital gate only. Jumpers coming through would be met immediately by the cruisers and doubtless taken out before they could defend themselves. With that in mind, Sam Carter belayed the request for reinforcements.

Until this point, Colonels Carter and Sheppard had worked seamlessly as a team to stabilize the situation, attempting to mount a defense. Once it was clear no help was coming, Colonel Carter stepped front and center, making the calls that had to be made.

It was her decision to set the self destruct.

We all knew the sensitive information contained on the Alpha site computers could not be allowed to fall into enemy hands. What's more, possession of an intact Alpha site would increase the chances of the Wraith making it to Earth. Even if it meant the destruction of everything we'd worked so hard to build, we couldn't take that chance. I was glad it wasn't my decision.

With Sheppard's help, she set the self destruct and ordered us to leave.

Without her.

"_We're not leaving you here," John Sheppard said in a stern, no nonsense tone._

"_Someone needs to stay behind to be sure they don't disarm the self destruct," Sam said. "Don't argue with me John. Get your team and the others to the jumpers and get out of here now. With any luck the Wraith cruisers will detect the power build up and move to a safe distance, giving you a clear shot at the Gate. Go!"_

"_I'll stay," McKay volunteered with uncharacteristic selflessness. "I can reconfigure things just as well as you can."_

"_Rodney, this is my call," she said. "Get out of here now!"_

And we had followed her orders, realizing in the end we had no choice.

Now we wait for her husband to arrive. Her widower, I suppose. What a terrible word.

I've never met General Jack O'Neill before. From what I hear he's a formidable man. Of course he is; he's a legend after all. Colonel Carter had only begun to mention him the last week or so. She was a little too discrete if you ask me. Still I suppose in her position, I might have done the same.

It would have been nice to meet the General under better circumstances, in happier times. As it is, he's coming with a lot of military big shots and an IOA contingent led by Mr. Woolsey. Colonel Sheppard says they're coming for Colonel Carter's memorial service. I know they're also here to find out what went wrong, to prevent it from happening again.

I hope they find out.

If anyone is responsible for leaking information to the Wraith, I want to see them punished. And I want them to suffer.

And I hope General O'Neill finds peace.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Explanations continue in the next chapter.

As you may have guessed some of the next few chapters will contain tributes to the character of Sam Carter. But rest assured things will lighten up, somewhat at least, as the story goes on.

Please review; hope folks are interested in this story! Let me know. As always your generous comments fuel my enthusiasm!!


	3. Chapter 3 News

Chapter 3: News

(John Sheppard reflects …)

I'm second-in-command of the Atlantis expedition. Strange, there was a time when I thought I'd make a good commander, deserved the honor even. This isn't one of those times.

Usually it falls to the commander to break bad news to families. The news is usually that their loved one has died in the line of duty. Most often, because of the classified nature of our activities, we can't tell them much more.

Now the "bad news" is _about_ the commander. And I have to deliver it.

I can't avoid the shame of my failure on this one.

I abandoned her. Yeah, I followed the orders of my military superior. And yeah, I didn't know the worst of it till I saw that tape. But right now, all that's cold comfort. I left her to a fate worse than death. I didn't so much as offer her the final escape I gave Colonel Sumner.

And none of that will mean a hill of beans to General O'Neill.

If I were Jack O'Neill, I'd beat me senseless. And I have no doubt he's still capable of doing just that. God knows, I wouldn't fight him. I deserve it.

She was right though. It couldn't have gone down any other way. Somebody had to stay behind. The Wraith who'd already infiltrated the station had already succeeded in sabotaging minor sub-routines. There was no telling what else they were capable of doing. If we all left and they turned off the self destruct, the base would have been theirs. We couldn't allow that to happen.

Of course that doesn't stop me from thinking I should have stayed with her. What good it would have done I don't know. But still … I'd rather have done that than face her husband with the news of her loss.

OoOoOo

As luck would have it, Jack O'Neill had traveled to the SGC in order to witness via Stargate the dedication of our Alpha site. With the destruction of Midway Station, any quick turn around time for travel to Atlantis was out of the question; we couldn't risk it. And General O'Neill couldn't put together three weeks to make the trip on the Daedelus.

For better or worse, he'd seen events unfold live at least, until direct communications broke down. He had a pretty good idea what was going to happen. Still I was the one who had to confirm it for him. Tell him for real that she didn't come home with us. Worse yet, provide him with the videotape of her last moments.

You see, the camera kept taping. Though the final events were never transmitted as far as Earth, they were relayed to Atlantis and digitally stored for retrieval. We reviewed them as soon as we got back to the station. We saw how the Wraith had entered the control room only minutes after our departure. We'd seen the leader advance on the Colonel before the self destruct went off.

Now, the horror of that tape was part of what I needed to communicate to General O'Neill.

Two hours after we returned to Atlantis I got my chance, or my sentence was more the way I saw it. In my worst act of cowardice, I asked General Landry to inform the Colonel's husband of her death. They were friends after all, not something I could claim to be. Something like this should be easier coming from a friend, shouldn't it? At least that's what I tried to sell Landry. Of course, he wasn't buying it.

I'll never forget the man's reaction.

He came into the control room expecting to hear from his wife, to hear that she'd survived disaster yet again. I just know he did.

"_Sheppard," he greeted me over the intergalactic connection. "Not that I don't want to see your handsome face, but where's my wife? I want to hear about this from her. Put her on, will you?"_

"_That's just it, Sir," I said. "I can't do that."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_She didn't make it back with us, Sir."_

Jack O'Neill was anything but stupid. Still, every once in a while he pretended to be a little slow, when it suited him of course. This time it was in self defense.

"_What do you mean," he asked, his eyes clouding over. "Where is she?"_

"_She didn't make it, Sir," I told him as clearly as I could. "She stayed behind to be sure the base didn't fall into enemy hands. There's no way she survived that blast."_

_His eyes closed. When they opened again, the military mask of indifference was firmly in place._

I've seen it before. Never been so good at it myself, but I've seen it before. That blank slate that gives away nothing and freezes all emotion just below the surface. O'Neill had perfected it.

"_No chance you're mistaken?"_

"_No, Sir. We reviewed the tapes. We don't see how she could have survived."_

Even though I couldn't bring myself to tell him about her final encounter with the Wraith, I felt as though my words were killing the man.

"_I see," he said slowly and deliberately. "I'll be there. O'Neill out."_

_And he was gone, moving away from the video screen as if it were poison. In his place was the somber figure of General Landry._

"_Is he alright?" I asked lamely. I regretted the foolishness of the question as soon as it was out of my mouth._

_Landry looked at me like the fool I was. He ignored the question altogether._

"_As General O'Neill said, a team will arrive in Atlantis within the next forty-eight hours to aid in the investigation of this situation, Colonel. In the meantime, I expect you to provide all written and videotaped evidence to this command. Landry out."_

It would be a long forty-eight hours. And that would be just the beginning.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Interest in the story is much appreciated. Will update soon.

Please review!!


	4. Chapter 4 Regret

Chapter 4: Regret

(Rodney McKay thinks about what's happened...)

He's coming today, Sam's husband that is. In fact, everyone's coming today. The delegation from the SGC, from home is coming to pay their respects and find out what went wrong.

She died, that's what went wrong. And as much as I spend most of my time in an obnoxious narcissistic fog, I know that's wrong. In the cosmic scheme of things, it's not fair, not the way it went down.

It should have been me. I should have been able to convince her to let me stay.

No one would really miss me. They tolerate me, nothing more. Aside from Jeannie I don't have any family. In a choice between us, Sam Carter's always been the better bet, the more creative mind, her science a work of art. Besides, she's a heck of a lot more likeable.

What I mean of course, is _I_ like her. In my fantasies she's equally attracted to me. At least that was my fantasy. In reality she never gave me a second glance. Once I realized her and the General ... you know … I understood. I'm not exactly the alpha male, action hero type. I may be arrogant and overbearing, but I know who I really am. I was never her type.

Serving with Sam Carter this past year was a real learning curve for me. My nose was seriously out of joint at first. I actually thought they might pick me for the job. Yeah, right! Thank God someone on the search committee was smarter than me. Anyway once I got over myself, I watched with considerable amazement while Sam handled her new position with grace and courage. She even put up with me, defending me every once in awhile to the military establishment. Knowing _she_ had confidence in me, well, that was huge.

She really was the right one for the job. Now she's gone. It's not fair. And it's certainly not right.

OoOoOo

(Teyla watches everyone arrive.)

All the senior staff were present and accounted for when the Stargate activated. It had been nearly thirty-six hours since the destruction of the Alpha site. Most of us were still in shock. After all, it was less than a year since Dr. Weir was taken from us; no one was prepared for another loss. No one ever would be.

John, Rodney and Colonel Caldwell were front and center when the delegation from the SGC came through. General Landry, Colonel Mitchell, and Dr. Daniel Jackson came through first. Following them were General O'Neill and the Jaffa, Teal'c. If I didn't know better, I'd say Teal'c was here to take care of the General, at least that's how it struck me as they walked through together.

I've only met General O'Neill in passing, never fought beside him or really gotten to know him. But Colonel Carter, she was a sister-in-arms. I regret how little time I had to spend with her. I know we would have bonded, understood each other as the female warriors we are. Even so, watching her husband enter Atlantis, ramrod straight, his face devoid of emotion, I can surmise what must be raging inside him.

I myself mourn in many ways for my lover, Kanaan, the father of my unborn child. There is a possibility that my love continues to live. That possibility is slight, but it is there. For General O'Neill, it is not the same. Like us, he has seen Colonel Carter's image obscured by the concussive force of the self destruct blast. Undoubtedly, we have all witnessed the unspeakable tragedy of her death.

Like me, this man cannot publicly display his emotions. It is not allowed. It is a code among true warriors. To do so would make us weak, vulnerable, or at least that is how we see it. Perhaps it would simply force us to acknowledge our vulnerability, the fact that we love as deeply as others, sometimes more so. Certainly that love is a two edged sword. It leads to the greatest of joys, and, in moments like this, to the deepest desolation. Much as we'd like to think otherwise, none of us are immune.

Not even my alien friend, Ronon.

OoOoOo

(Ronon's way of dealing...)

I've only been with these people two years. I know I have a different way of looking at things. Still, I can't believe they're making us watch this disaster one more time. What purpose could it serve?

I've seen the tape of what happened on the Alpha site at least four times. How can watching it again possible help?

But here we all are, watching it again. This time with her husband, looking for any clues about what happened.

If you ask me, it's cruel. It's over. It's time to avenge her. Time to take it to the Wraith, time to kill every one of them we can. Never mind trying to help them, change them, or negotiate. It's time to wipe them out, something that should have been done long ago. This man, her husband will know. He is a warrior. I can see it in the way he holds himself, the set of his jaw. And Teal'c is his friend. A fierce warrior, that one is. He'll know what to do. I am certain of it.

OoOoOo

In the central conference room of Atlantis, the SGC delegation and the senior Atlantis staff began their official review of the events which culminated in the destruction of the Alpha site. It had been one hour since the activation of the Stargate; the formal greetings and medical clearances had barely been completed. (Dr. Keller was having a fit; since the decontamination facility on Midway was gone, much of that work was left to her on these emergency visits. She'd hardly had the time to do what she considered a thorough job. Their pledge to return for further testing once the meeting was over didn't make her feel much better.)

Colonel Sheppard, surprisingly mindful of the emotional turmoil plaguing many of his team, had suggested waiting until the visitors got settled in guest quarters. But O'Neill was having none of that. He wanted to know what happened. And if his wife was truly gone, he needed to be convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt. There was no point in waiting. He wanted answers.

While Ronon continued to stew, he and the rest of the assembled personnel viewed the Alpha site video one more time. The Satedan was right about one thing. The tape had been dissected with a fine tooth comb by both the Atlantis military operatives and the science team. It was unlikely they missed anything. But still…

Sheppard and McKay had selected the last thirty minutes of tape for playback. This began with the team's arrival in the control room, supposedly for a celebration. Thoroughly documented were the first moments when they realized something was wrong, reacting to the warning sounded by the sensors. From there, they quickly realized the facility had already been breached, that the standard security teams had been compromised. They'd been taken by surprise with how quickly the cruisers took up position near the Gate. Though outwardly calm, the increased tension was obvious on the faces of both Carter and Sheppard as the inevitable became clear. They would not be able to save the Alpha site.

The most they could hope for was to minimize loss of life and deprive the enemy of an easy access route to Earth. To that end, command decided to nullify the request for reinforcement and destroy the outpost.

Each of the arguments made against that course of action was duly documented on the tape. But in the end, all had agreed with their leader that this was the only realistic course of action. However, protest had risen up anew when Sam made clear her intent to stay behind. John Sheppard watched from his seat in the conference room, hearing his own words, the words that had failed to sway his superior from her deadly intent. He wished he could have been more persuasive. But by then, the team had discovered at least three systems already sabotaged by the invaders. Apparently they had unexpected knowledge of Ancient technology which might well be used to disarm the self destruct.

So they'd left. They'd followed orders, gathered the team and those left alive among the security contingent and made their way to the jumpers, leaving Sam Carter a solitary figure, guarding a deadly weapon.

The last five minutes of the tape chronicled the worst of it as far as the team was concerned. Shortly after Sheppard and the others left, three Wraith penetrated the final layers of defense and entered the control room. Sam had been right, they made it in before detonation. Without her interference, they most certainly would have had the opportunity to attempt disarmament. As it was, Sam fired like a wild woman, using her P90 to repeatedly maim and wound the Wraith invaders. She succeeded in expertly dodging their fire and killing two of them. The third however advanced on her as her weapon jammed. Clearly the final Wraith was aware the self destruct was in progress. For a brief moment he attempted to persuade her to save both their lives. She would not give ground.

_Then we die together, the Wraith hissed. But before we do, I shall feed._

As he placed his hideous hand to her chest, the scene exploded into white smoke and flames. Within seconds all transmission ended as the site was consumed by the nuclear blast.

The recording ended. The lights came up. All were silent, waiting for one man's reaction.

"And there's no chance she got off the planet before the explosion?" Jack asked flatly.

Rodney hung his head in silent answer to the General's question.

"Not that I can see, Sir. I wish I could say otherwise. But I just don't see how?"

"And you've searched the planet for life signs?"

"We've done a thorough search," Major Lorne said.

"Not thorough enough," Jack insisted. "I'm going myself. I'll assemble my team."

Then to Sheppard, "Ready a jumper. I'm driving."

OoOoOo

Light years from Atlantis, an injured captive awoke.

"Where am I?" The weak voice whispered into the cavernous darkness.

"Somewhere no one ever wants to be, Colonel," was the response. "At least now I have company".

TBC

* * *

A/N: I thank you for your patience with some of the inner dialog from the characters. Sometimes I find myself wishing I knew what characters are thinking and this was my chance to flesh that out a bit and describe how I see each character's motivation.Occasionally this style will resurface in future chapters, but not as much. We'll be on to some action pretty soon now.

Clearly this is a crossover with Atlantis. Hope you also enjoy those characters. I've started to get to know them myself this past year, watching the old episodes I'd never seen.

I appreciate all of your comments; please continue to let me know what you think. Promise to update again by this weekend.


	5. Chapter 5 Empty

Chapter 5: Empty

It was a no-nonsense, quiet trip to the planet. Like it or not, everyone had time for reflection, Daniel included.

_He looks old,_ Daniel thought

_For the first time, Jack O'Neill looks old._

_Sure, when I first met him, he was a good twelve years older than me and bossy at that. But I never thought of him as old. Even when he hit fifty, the black balloons and age jokes were just that, jokes as far as I was concerned. Then when he left the field for administration, well, he was still the same Jack, ready for anything and willing to mix it up with the best of us._

_But these past two days, he looks old. Not only his face and his body, but his spirit as well. I suppose that's what worries me the most. I read somewhere that people under severe stress suffer temporary but real damage to their heart muscle, cardiomyopathy they call it. If that's true, Jack's a prime candidate. God knows his heart's broken. I can only hope Sam's death doesn't break __**him**_

_Suddenly he's empty. I know because I've been there. Loosing Sha're emptied me out. Having purpose and friends helped me survive that loss, but I'm afraid my friend needs more. He needs Sam._

_I knew he'd insist on going to the planet, seeing for himself. There's no way he'd accept it from someone else, from second hand information. I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to what we're going to find. _

_We've all been there before. When Earth's Alpha site was destroyed, we went looking for survivors. Sam was missing then too. As Jack's already pointed out, she survived that time. He's right. She does have a way of beating the odds. Heck, we all do. Still, I can't help but think this is different. This time she wasn't running away from the compound when the blast hit, she was at the epicenter. We saw that. Jack saw that. He's setting himself up for more hurt, more disappointment. But no one can tell him that. He'll need to see for himself._

_Teal'c and I will be there for him when he needs us._

OoOoOo

He'd reminded his team of how Sam survived the destruction of another Alpha site, less than four year ago. He'd told them it was déjà vu. She'd survived then. Why shouldn't they believe she survived this?

Jack didn't dare answer his own question. He could come up with all sorts of perfectly sensible reasons she couldn't have survived, and not many realistic scenarios that offered hope.

He'd taken Daniel, Teal'c and Sheppard with him to check out the site. Sheppard had promised to call from more help when or if conditions warranted. Jack the military man doubted that would be necessary. Jack the husband clung to the belief their efforts would make all the difference.

He landed the jumper over a mile from the blast site. Even from that distance, the unbridled magnitude of the destruction was evident. The air was heavy with the pungent scent of burnt metal and the unmistakable smell of death. The trees even this far out were charred. Where there'd once been pleasing flora and fauna for as far as the eye could see there was nothing but scorched earth.

It would take minutes to walk to the blast site. In those few minutes, Jack felt the tendrils of hope desert him. She'd been at the center of the blast. It wouldn't make sense to look further than where they landed. And he couldn't imagine there would be life close to the blast. Still he kept walking, insisting his team scour the earth under their feet for any sign she survived.

But there was nothing. Even as they reached the site itself, there was nothing, less than nothing, actually. It was as if they'd never built there at all. Everything had been instantly vaporized by the incandescent fury of the self destruct device. His friends helped, walked with him, even searched through the ashes that remained. Daniel took samples of soil and ash. There was nothing. The sensors hadn't lied. No life remained on this site. He'd been foolish to think otherwise.

The planet, like his heart, was empty, barren. Life had ended here. And as far as Jack was concerned, it had ended for him as well.

OoOoOo

The team made the trip back to Atlantis in silence. No one knew what to say, so these men who'd seen more than their share of death said nothing. But once they returned through the Atlantis gate and left the jumper that changed.

"I'll see you all in the morning," Jack said. "I have some things to do."

Daniel and Teal'c looked at each other. Sheppard spoke up.

"Sir, I was thinking we should brief the rest of the senior staff," he suggested.

"I'm sure you can do a fine job of that, Colonel," Jack said. "There'll be a memorial service, right?"

"Of course," Sheppard replied. "We'll all be there, whenever you're ready, Sir."

"Tomorrow, at noon," Jack said. "Tell your people."

With that he was gone.

Though Sheppard was confused by O'Neill's quick departure, Daniel and Teal'c understood completely. Jack O'Neill was not a man who dealt with emotions in public and these emotions would be hard to conceal much longer. Eventually Teal'c would go after him, knowing where he would be. He'd give him some time alone, but then he would make sure his friend had the support he needed.

OoOoOo

The tired, small voice tried its best to communicate with the only companion available. Not knowing with whom she shared her captivity, she simply hoped he was friendly. His voice sounded human enough. But here in the pitch black of her cocoon, there was little else to go by. For all she knew the voice belonged to a creature with two heads or worse yet, a Wraith.

"Please let me out of here," she pleaded.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ma'am," she heard the formal, polite response. "Even though this place looks empty, we are being watched."

OoOoOo

Emptiness …his stomach felt empty, hunger he supposed. But food held no attraction right now.

He'd seen it. He'd seen the site up close and personal. It was more than likely the site of Sam's death. As such, he would never forget it.

Now as Jack approached his wife's private quarters, he took a deep breath, trying to quiet his thoughts before using his swipe pass.

It fell to Jack to empty out Sam's private quarters. He wouldn't have it any other way. What he'd find here would be a precious part of what she'd left behind for him and the others she loved. As hard as this would be, he wouldn't give this task to anyone else, no matter how dear a friend. He'd do as much as he could tonight. Tomorrow, after the memorial, Teal'c and Daniel would help him with the rest. He was certain Mitchell would want to help as well.

At Jack's request, Sheppard had already brought over the personal items Sam kept in her office, mostly the assortment of framed photos that served to remind her of home. Cassie, Jacob, Daniel, Teal'c and of course the two of them fishing; these memories greeted Jack as soon as he walked into Sam's room. They were good memories.

Being in her space was like being with a part of Sam. After nearly a year, her quarters were furnished to her liking and filled with personal mementos. It _felt_ like her. Sam's unique and welcome scent still permeated the space. If he didn't know better Jack would expect Sam to walk through the door at any moment.

That wasn't going to happen. As it was, the closest he'd come to his wife would be the message he knew was on her personal laptop, the vehicle she used for private communications and journaling of her most personal thoughts and feelings. It was right there, on her bureau, waiting for him. But not yet, he wasn't ready.

Putting off that final message, he sat down heavily on the side of the bed. As he did, his eyes were drawn to Sam's nightstand. And there he saw a neatly framed picture of himself in happier days. And the rush of memories continued.

_I look so young. Content even, I was probably looking at her when that was taken. Seeing her face in those days was enough to make me content. And she was so young, so innocent. Innocent of so much of life's cruelty, she was wide-eyed with enthusiasm for life, for exploration. Without knowing it, she breathed life into me back then. _

_This picture must have been taken right after we brought Cassie back from Hanka. It was one of those simple, happy moments. We were all together, relaxed, safe in a park, with swings, a small child and a dog, no danger in sight. Eleven years ago, it was all so different. Now Cassie's grown up, the dog's long gone, I'm grey and Sam …well Sam …she's gone too. _

_Gone …I'm not sure I can admit it to myself. I don't have any evidence to dispute her death, but, hell, denial is a wonderful thing. Speaking at her memorial tomorrow won't do a lot to bolster that denial. Damn._

_Sam …I miss you so much already. I can't imagine life without you. _

As the unbidden, unwanted moisture gathered in his eyes, Jack O'Neill moved without conscious thought towards Sam's laptop. Painful as it might be, he desperately needed to hear her voice, see her face, one last time. He knew he'd play this message over and over again. He knew he'd hold it memorized in his heart from today on. He might as well begin now. Maybe it would help.

The computer booted up rapidly. Before he knew it, the password protected file containing Sam's final messages was front and center waiting for an access code. "Fishing", Sam had been so proud of herself when she'd selected that particularly simple, homey password. Who'd have expected it from a world renowned astrophysicist? Surely a stranger would never guess.

There were seven documents in the folder, one for himself, another for Cassie, one for her brother and others for the remaining members of SG1. It would be his responsibility to see to it the remaining files found their rightful places. But for now, all he could do was concentrate on her final words for him.

One more keystroke and Sam's face filled the screen.

She was smiling. Not the megawatt, full fledged smile that lit his heart from ear to ear, but a pleasant one nonetheless. After all, this taping goodbyes stuff was hard. It was bittersweet at best. To sit down and talk to someone, knowing when they listened to the message you would be gone, that was a daunting task. As with most tasks, Sam was more than capable of completing it in style. And so he listened.

"Hi, Jack," her recorded voice said. His heart flipped, simply hearing the sound of her voice one more time. Sure enough, the tears began to fall.

"Since you're watching this, I must be dead. There, I've said it. That's half the battle."

Jack reached up and swiped at the tears that fell, while Sam's recorded image reached out to him with compassionate, loving eyes.

"I wish I could hold you right now, my darling. But I can't. This is as close as I can come. However it was that I died, know that my last thoughts were of you."

Through his own unguarded tears, Jack could see the tears forming in Sam's eyes. They'd talked about these messages before, how hard it was to tape them, how hard it was to acknowledge the inevitable. They'd both known one of them would have to watch a message like this with all that it meant. Still, the heart protested the cruelty of it, the finality of death.

"There's so much to say. I hope I've said most of it to you before now. I hope I've let you know how very much you mean to me. Your love has been so precious to me for so long. Even in those days we couldn't acknowledge our feelings, I held you in the center of my heart. You've been my friend, lover, confidant, mentor and my beloved husband. I couldn't have asked for more. With you, I've grown in ways I'd never believed possible. You've taught me about myself, how to play, how to enjoy life. And you've taught me about love.

"And I do love you, more than I imagined was possible. Never forget that, Jack. I love you, I will always love you. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for the wonderful man that you are. I know you will grieve. But remember this. Your wife wants you to find happiness again. Do that for me, Jack. Let yourself do that. Promise me.

"I love you."

And with that the image was gone.

OoOoOo

In the solitary darkness, Sam listened for the voice of her mysterious companion. But there was no further sound. All was silent. She was trapped, unable to move. She knew her tormentors would return any time now. She would never see them coming. Maybe her companion would return first.

But in the meantime, panic was a patient companion, waiting just beneath the surface. It was one potential companion she could not afford to entertain. If she were to find her way home, she would need her wits about her.

And so she breathed the name she knew would calm her mind …

_Jack… _

* * *

TBC 

A/N: All of your reviews, suggestions, comments greatly appreciated. I'm thinking a few of you were relieved to hear Sam was still among the living!! (Now, would I ever do anything else?)

Once I have this chapter up, it's off to a few less pleasant real life tasks. However, more soon, maybe even this weekend. All I need is some efficiency in some of the other things. Wish me luck.

Please review.


	6. Chapter 6 Tribute

Chapter 6: Tribute

Sam had no idea how long she had been here. Stimulus deprivation made people lose track of time. And she'd certainly been deprived. It seemed forever. It was like the four days she spent on the Prometheus, suffering from a concussion. She'd thought it had been weeks. She'd been all alone with her hallucinations. What she wouldn't give for those hallucinations now. As it was, her mysterious companion seemed to have vanished for the moment. She didn't think he was an hallucination.

She'd heard victims preserved in Wraith cocoons were kept comatose, not aware of their surroundings. Right now she'd be grateful for a little unconsciousness. Aside from slipping off to sleep every so often, she's been wide awake with her own thoughts and sense of powerlessness for the entire time. She was, after all, wrapped snugly in a form fitting semi-permeable membrane that allowed no voluntary movement, a straight jacket of sorts. With no way to pass or mark time, the experience was unbelievably disorienting. There was little to work with in terms of planning an escape. It was all but impossible to keep from contemplating her own death, all the while awaiting her next visitation. And these visits, such as they were, were unpredictable.

One, sometimes two, Wraith had approached her on at least three occasions since her confinement. Each time they would attempt to feed, a process at once repulsive and fascinating to her. Apparently she was not to their liking; soon after each feeding began, a less than satisfied Wraith would disengage its feeding tendrils. Most every time the unfortunate feeder would pull away in agony. The last time, the Wraith feeder had barely begun before he thought better of it.

This time was much like the others. Only one Wraith approached her.

She was unable to see him in the darkness until he was upon her. She couldn't help but startle, a response she could tell gave him great pleasure.

"What do you want with me?" Sam asked in as strong a voice as she could manage.

"Ah …that… that is an excellent question," the creature answered.

"And I'd like an excellent answer," she continued, wishing for the brash courage her tone conveyed.

The Wraith did his best to sound patient and reasonable, all the while marveling at the audacity of this relatively fragile female captive.

"It seems we are unable to feed on you," he said. "Although you do not poison us in the way others have in the past, something about your chemical makeup renders you immune to the enzymes which siphon human life force to our bodies."

"That's too bad," Sam said. "Sounds like you might as well let me go."

What might have been an ironic smirk in a human came across as an evil grimace on the face of the Wraith before her.

"Oh no," he said. "That would be such a waste. We have a great opportunity here."

"Opportunity? Sam asked "For what, exactly?"

"Research of course, my dear," the vampire-like creature answered. "Experimentation on a live human subject who shows resistance to our enzymes is an opportunity not to be missed."

Sam doubted even Jack would have a comeback for that one. She was certain her dread showed on her face, even through the veil of the cocoon.

"Do not worry, Samantha," her captor said. "Our work together will be a tribute to all Wraith who have been sacrificed to the scientific curiosity of humans. Look at it as payment in kind."

OoOoOo

Over Atlantis, the sun was rising, heralding the start of a new day.

In the command center the klaxons announcing gate activation were sounding. The IOA delegation, a team of three bureaucrats led by Mr. Woolsey, were arriving as scheduled to pursue their part of the investigation and to attend Sam's memorial service. Their arrival was the least of John Sheppard's concerns.

Yes, part of Richard Woolsey's task would eventually be the appointment of a new commander for Atlantis. And yes, Colonel Caldwell had already made it clear he wanted the posting. And right now, Lt. Colonel Sheppard could care less.

He and the senior staff had spent most of last evening reviewing the disheartening visit to the devastated Alpha site. They'd done it without the aid of Jack O'Neill, who remained conspicuous by his absence. Once the debriefing was finishing, along with Dr. Jackson, Teal'c and Cam Mitchell, they'd planned parts of today's service.

Sheppard had tossed and turned most of the night. By 0500 he'd given up and begun to walk the long corridors of the city, more than a little fearful he might run into a similarly restless Jack O'Neill. He had no better idea what to say to the man than he had last night.

As he welcomed the IOA representatives and began their initial briefing, John's mind was on the service that would be held a little over three hours from now. Everyone would be there. He had no doubt of that. In the months since Samantha Carter had assumed command, she'd gained the respect of civilian and military personnel alike. Most people he knew genuinely liked her. It was hard not to as far as Sheppard was concerned. She would be missed.

The simple gathering today would allow members of the expedition to say goodbye in a formal way. Closure and all that … he supposed it was important, like Heightmeyer used to tell them all the time. But for the next ninety minutes or so he would have the pleasure of explaining the week's events one more time for the IOA. What's more, he'd be endlessly interrogated by Mr. Woolsey. Who could ask for more?

OoOoOo

Sheppard was right. Jack had been unable to sleep most of the night. He'd rejected his assigned VIP room in favor of Sam's personal quarters where he'd stared at pictures and gone through personal papers and memorabilia. He'd felt closer to her for moments at a time, only to be jarred by reality each time he looked up to see an empty room.

Only an hour before Sheppard began his own nocturnal pilgrimage around the city, Jack had started wandering, unconsciously searching for signs of his wife in the far flung corners of the Ancient city. Once in a great while he was successful, as another wide awake denizen of a certain area would recognize him and stop to offer condolences. But that wasn't exactly what the grieving husband had in mind. So he returned to the undisturbed solitude of Sam's quarters.

By 0900, Teal'c made his presence known, carrying an offering of hot coffee and donuts. Daniel wasn't far behind. Together they told Jack of the plans for the simple memorial that would take place later this morning.

Teal'c was certain Jack heard every word they said, despite his somber silence. He'd gratefully nodded his approval as his friends told him how several members of the expedition would be offering words of tribute for Sam. As he'd requested, Jack would be the last to speak, delivering the final eulogy for his wife.

OoOoOo

Teal'c and Daniel had declined to speak themselves. As far as they were concerned, it was Jack's place to eulogize Sam. But they would stand by him for as long as he needed.

And that was literally what they did. After the others had shared their own memories of Colonel Carter, Teal'c and Daniel flanked their grieving friend as he began to speak.

For once, Jack O'Neill found no way to inject humor into an occasion. He had all he could do to speak the words he wanted to say. But say them he would, with the depth of feeling his wife's memory deserved.

"First of all, I want to thank all of you," he began. "Thank you for all the ways you've helped and supported Sam since she came to Atlantis. She has always had the highest praise for all of you. And thank you for your kind words of tribute today.

"Everyone here knew Sam in some way. As friend, colleague, commander. Most of you already know she was an extraordinary woman. Nothing I can say will adequately paint that picture for you if you didn't know her. But I will tell you she cared for all of you and valued your welfare, above her own.

"Sam was that kind of person. That's the reason she's not here today. And as much as I grieve her and will grieve her for as long as I can imagine, I wouldn't have wanted her any other way. Her selflessness was part of what made her Sam. That along with her intelligence, compassion and inner goodness made her who she was, the woman I love, the woman we all memorialize today.

"In case you don't know, Sam saved the world on numerous occasions, even blew up a sun. But to talk with her, you'd get the feeling she was simply another human being, interested in you and willing to listen to what you had to say. She was a confident, exceedingly competent woman who loved life and relished her part in it. And that is how I will choose to remember her."

With those final words, he simply stopped speaking. There was no more to be said, not to this large group of people. As they stood and applauded his words, Jack nodded solemnly. Then accompanied by his friends he left the podium. His friends followed.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I have plot lines waiting to be developed for the next few chapters. There are a few twists and turns on the way. I should be posting again soon.

Thank you all for your comments. The fact that so many take the time to both read and review is _very_ encouraging.


	7. Chapter 7 Feelings

Chapter 7: Feelings

It had been awhile since Oscar's last visit. Sam had decided to name her tormentor, the Wraith. It was a little trick she'd learned from John Sheppard, made it easier to comprehend the creatures once they had a name. It was something Jack would do.

She was uncertain how much time had passed. Oscar had given her an injection. Though she had no idea what it was, Sam hoped it might help her sleep. No such luck, she was still wide awake, running on nervous energy and, whether she wanted to admit it or not, fear.

She couldn't have been here more than a few days. As far as she could tell there was no obvious way to break free of her unyielding prison. Hopefully these cocoons made some provision for maintaining range of motion. She was going to be more than a little stiff when they finally let her out.

Despite Sam's best efforts to get information about Oscar's plans for her, she'd failed miserably so far. All he'd been willing to share were angry diatribes about the injustices humans had perpetrated on the Wraith. It seemed Oscar and his friends felt like the victims here. That was not a good thing.

Sam hated the name Oscar.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, back on Atlantis …

At thirty-two years of age, Anita Lattimore PhD seemed a good fit for the Atlantis expedition. Though relatively inexperienced in her work as a clinical psychologist, family connections had quickly pushed her to the forefront of her profession. Those ties continued to serve her well. But beyond that silver spoon, Dr. Lattimore was a dedicated, ambitious woman. And she had security clearance.

Though otherwise fearless, the young psychologist made her dislike of the Stargate itself no secret. When time came for the initial trip to Atlantis, she'd been happy to avoid the quicker, in her mind, riskier trip, in favor of a ride aboard one of Earth's top secret hyperspace cruisers.

Her arrival in Atlantis was certainly inauspicious. She'd come three weeks after Kate Heightmeyer's death, arriving aboard a scheduled trip of the Daedelus. On that particular run, Colonel Caldwell and crew endured one of their more harrowing encounters with the Wraith. Anita was one of the personnel treated to an up close and personal visit, escaping only after the heroic intervention of a rescue team from the Daedelus.

It was more than enough to make a lesser person think twice about her new position. But that wasn't Anita. From all outward appearances her enthusiasm was undiminished by her traumatic experience. She seemed to take it in stride. Her response had gone a long way towards easing her acceptance into the Atlantis family. Many saw her resilience as a positive comment on her strength of character, reassuring them of her ability to lend that strength to them when they needed it most.

Anita had been part of the team nearly seven months when the Alpha site was destroyed. Like most of her colleagues she'd had input into the site design. She'd spent weeks there with Dr. Keller, offering her input on the most beneficial way to arrange the facility should it ever be needed as a long term refugee site. She'd even conquered her fear of the Stargate enough to travel through via puddle jumper. Successfully navigating the Stargate had made her feel more confident. And she needed every ounce of that confidence to help her teammates deal with the latest tragedy.

Since Colonel Carter's loss, Anita had been busy. During her leadership, Dr. Weir had done a good job of encouraging her staff to avail themselves of mental health services. Kate Heightmeyer's popularity had made the counseling office much less intimidating, and a place where both civilian and military personal felt at ease. Anita Lattimore fell heir to that spirit of trust and good will. Her ability to keep confidences, soothe anxious clients and help exorcise emotional demons had quickly become known among members of the expedition. Strong, accomplished men and women came to her door admitting their fears, their guilt, their grief. When they left her presence, they often felt better. It was a job she did well.

But Anita Lattimore was lonely. Her work distanced her personally from many of her colleagues. And she'd yet to find someone she could talk to about her own mutinous feelings.

OoOoOo

"Hey, how are you?"

Sam's companion was back. She had no idea where he'd gone, but he was back. Not Oscar, but her human companion.

"I'm just peachy," she answered irritably.

"Yeah," he answered, "most people sleep in the cocoons. You're the first one I've actually seen stay awake so much."

"Lucky me," Sam replied. Then after a moment, she asked, "So, how come you're walking around free?"

"Me? Well I've been here a long time, a couple of years I think."

"Really?" Sam had been told of Wraith worshippers and wondered if this man were one. "Why do they leave you alive?"

"Alive? Is that what we're calling it?" he responded sarcastically. "I suppose I serve a purpose in their sick little minds."

Sam had no idea what the man was talking about. Still, she needed his help. Like it or not, he was her best bet.

"What's your name? What do I call you?" Sam asked.

There was a noticeable pause. Then her companion answered, "Denny, you can call me Denny, Colonel."

That was the second time this one had addressed her by her rank. _That's odd_, she thought.

"Do you know me, Denny?" Sam asked.

"Oh, no Ma'am," he answered. "They told me who you were when they brought you in."

_Why would the Wraith give this one any information at all?_ Sam wondered.

"Ever try to escape, Denny?" Sam asked.

"Not in a long while," he replied, his voice soft and miserable.

"Why not?" Sam persisted.

_Why not, indeed?_ Denny questioned himself_. Because they have something I need, _he thought_. But I can't tell her that …not yet.  
_

"I tried …" he finally said "… to escape that is. There's no way out you know. Not without weapons or back up. Might as well get used to it," he said. "I have."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 

Love to hear from you. Please review.


	8. Chapter 8 Brothers

Chapter 8: Brothers

Once back on Earth, Jack O'Neill wasted no time traveling to San Diego. He needed to bring Mark Carter the news of his sister's death. To say Jack wasn't looking forward to this visit would be a gross understatement.

He wished he could tell his brother-in-law the truth. The man deserved it. He'd lost both a father and a sister to this secret military endeavor he knew nothing about. He deserved more.

Mark was surprised when Jack called, even more surprised to hear Sam wasn't coming with him for the unexpected visit. Over the past year, Jack and Mark had become friends of a sort. While Jack got to know some of Mark's endearing qualities, Mark came to like and respect Jack as the man who made his sister happy.

Once he arrived, that man wasted no time getting to the heart of his tragic message.

Sam's older brother was taken aback by news of his sister's death. He and Sam hadn't been that close, but she _was_ his little sister; he would have done anything to protect her. As it is, he'd never had the chance.

"And you can't tell me what happened to my sister, can you?" Mark stated as fact once he'd recovered from the initial shock. "I know you loved her, Jack," he said. "How would you feel if no one would tell _you_ what happened?"

"Couldn't feel much worse than I do right now," Jack answered sincerely, his voice flat.

In spite of his frustration, Mark's attitude softened almost immediately. In this most difficult of moments, Sam's brother realized it was grief that fueled his anger. Sam was the last surviving member of his childhood family. He'd been so glad to see her happy, even if it was with a military man like Jack O'Neill. He'd hoped to see her have a family of her own, enjoy the life he thought she deserved. Clearly that wasn't to be.

The man sitting across from him was devastated. It didn't take a lot for a military brat like Mark Carter to understand the meaning of the flat, emotionless façade O'Neill portrayed. He didn't need anything or anyone else to cause him more pain, certainly not Mark and his angst..

"I'm sorry," Mark said finally. "I know this hit you hard too, however it went down. It's not fair, any of it. Her death, the fact I can't know what happened to my sister, you losing your wife, none of its right." Then, after a bit of silence, Mark added, "What can I do to help … you know … with the arrangements?"

_How do I tell him there's no body to bury?_ Jack wondered. _We don't even have her ashes. And how the hell do I make it through another service?_

"I'd appreciate it if you'd planned the service," Jack said quietly. "I don't think I'm up to it."

Mark nodded. "And the burial?"

"We don't have a body, Mark," Jack answered simply. "She's gone. I'm sorry."

Jack watched as Mark flinched at the thought of that final indignity.

"I see," was Mark's response. "Then I'll plan the memorial. Is it alright with you if it's here?"

"That would be fine. San Diego's where Sam grew up, stands to reason we'd remember her here."

Mark nodded silently. He had no idea what to say. But as his brother-in-law stood up, making as to leave, he did know he couldn't let the man go like this.

"Jack," Mark called. "Have dinner with us and stay the night. We all need the time together. You can get some rest before you head out. Besides, the kids would like to see their Uncle Jack."

OoOoOo

Jack stayed with the Carters overnight. The next morning found him boarding one of the first flights out. Mark and his family had no idea the new widower wasn't headed back to Washington. Instead, he flew to Minnesota, making his way to his favorite spot on Earth, the place he could feel the closest to Sam. He still needed to say goodbye.

By the time he reached the cabin, it was dark. Fortunately, there was a full moon rising and, if need be, Jack could find his rustic refuge in his sleep. As usual, all was quiet save for the evening sounds of the friendly local wildlife and a light breeze whistling through the trees.

In the one short year they'd been together, he could swear Sam had started to like it here almost as much as he did. This is where they'd finally had _**the**__ talk_, the one they'd put off far too long. So much had changed since they'd opened the door to that damn room. Feelings had exploded with the intensity of 4th of July firecrackers. They'd both been waiting far too long for each other.

_In those days everything was possible_, Jack thought. _We made love here for the first time. I was pretty proud of myself; we actually made it to the bed. I wanted that first time to be as special as she was. I'll never forget how beautiful she was that night_.

_What she ever saw in this beat up old warhorse I'll never know. But she loved me. I know that without a doubt. She showed it every day, even from a galaxy away. I hope I did the same for her._

_Left to myself, I can be pretty morose. I'd probably hide out the rest of my miserable life. Boy, Sam would be pissed. As it is, I think I hear her voice in my head even now, kicking my ass, telling me to get moving. I only wish she could tell me how to do that._

_Then again, Sam always said I was smarter that I acted. She'd probably think I could figure it out on my own._

_I'm not so sure, Sam, but I'll make you proud. Just not today is all. Today I'm going to miss you some. Then I'll see about tomorrow._

OoOoOo

The next day around noon, the doorbell rang. Though he'd been awake by 0600, Jack hadn't done much all morning. He certainly wasn't expecting company.

When he made it to the front door, he was greeted by two very familiar faces. Daniel and Teal'c stood on his front porch, apparently bearing gifts. Jack reluctantly opened the door.

"What brings you two to Minnesota?" He asked a bit testily.

"Road trip," Daniel replied. "Teal'c wanted to go for a drive."

"Right," Jack said. "What'cha got there?" He asked, gesturing absently to the bags the guys were holding.

"I insisted we bring all of the major food groups," Teal'c said.

"Yeah," Daniel added with a grin. "Beer, donuts, pizza … oh , and cake."

"Guys, I appreciate the effort," Jack said, "really I do. But I'm gonna take a rain check. I'm not very good company right now."

"No rain check," Daniel said. "You have to eat. Besides, I'm hungry and I'm not eating pizza in the car with Teal'c."

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c confirmed, aching his eyebrow. "Pizza should never be eaten in a moving vehicle."

Jack nearly chuckled. He gave in with little more persuasion. His friends had come for his own good. He knew that. He could hardly send them away.

Instead he stood back, threw the door open and let them in. As he did, he saw one final bag in Teal'c's hand, clearly marked from the nearest video store.

"Star Wars?" he asked.

"Indeed."

TBC

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A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!! 


	9. Chapter 9 Dreams

A/N: I've noticed from your reviews that some are a bit anxious about Sam. Never fear, this chapter will begin to move her part of the story along a bit more.

* * *

Chap 9: Dreams

"Sam!!" Jack woke up, shouting her name.

He was breathing in short, fast gasps. It had been one week since he watched his wife die, courtesy of the Alpha site's log. And every night since he'd first watched the tragedy unfold, he'd had the same dream.

In the dream, he and Sam were picnicking at the cabin. On a bright early autumn day, with the trees in full leaf, turning brilliant colors, they'd taken a picnic lunch off towards their favorite clearing. They flirted and teased each other like teenagers most of the way. Once they arrived, Sam showed no interest in settling down for lunch. She continued to play, running off into the woods and challenging Jack to find her.

Initially, Jack laughed and joked as he searched for Sam… and found her, each time joyfully picking her up, kissing her and swinging her around. "Got'cha!" he'd call out in triumph. Each time, she'd run off again. And she'd call to him, "Come on, you can find me!"

But that last time in each dream, he couldn't find her. All he saw were trees, row after row of trees and thick underbrush, but no Sam. Though she'd vanished from sight, her voice still called to him, playfully, "Jack, come find me … I'm waiting for you."

By the end of each dream, Jack began to panic, running aimlessly through the woods with no idea which direction to go. Gradually, fear he wouldn't find her descended upon him. Finally, once he was desperate and exhausted, he'd see the outline of her face shadowing a tree. Her shadow was all that was left. By then, even her voice was quiet. Without fail, at the sight of that particular tree he would wake up with a start, calling her name

Tonight's dream was no different.

At least tonight, his friends were here. Teal'c and Daniel had stayed the night. Maybe in the morning he'd tell them about the dream. Then again, he might keep it to himself.

OoOoOo

Finally she'd started to sleep. In fact, sleep and wakefulness had begun to blend together. For the most part, her sleep was filled with restless nightmares, the wakefulness with the sinking realization of her predicament.

When awake, she was victim to the ultimate in stimulus deprivation. Near total lack of movement, accompanied by the odd sensations of tubing and monitor wires managing her most intimate physical needs was enough to panic most people, even the strongest soldier. It was worse than her kidnapping by Adrian Conrad; even though she was drugged that time, she'd had hope. In fact she'd nearly escaped on her own. Hard as she tried, she couldn't figure a way out of this one, not without help. .

Much as she'd like to think Jack was looking for her, it was more likely he believed she died in the explosion. Best she could tell the Wraith culling beam had scooped her up only milliseconds before the blast. If anyone had watched the video log, it was likely the beam wasn't noticed at all. They'd easily assume there were no survivors. No one would be looking, not even Jack.

"Oscar" gave her injections several times a day now. She had no idea what the serum was, and he wasn't willing to tell her. All she knew was it was becoming harder and harder to think clearly. Escape would depend on her ability to think and even that was failing her now.

The harder it got, the more she tried to focus. As time went on, her mind was so scattered, it was difficult to maintain focus on anything for more than a moment or two. Except Jack; she could still see his face clearly in her mind's eye. Each time she succeeded in conjuring up that welcome visage, she could feel her body relax and her thoughts clear. Gratefully, whatever else was happening in her gradually more addled brain, she was still able to imagine Jack's presence, feel the remembered comfort of his arms around her and relax into an imaginary, but very loving embrace.

OoOoOo

On Atlantis, John Sheppard was dreaming too. And they weren't pleasant dreams. They were the kinds of aftereffects he was familiar with whenever he lost a member of his team. And in his line of work, that happened far too often.

Colonel Sumner, Aiden Ford, Carson Beckett, Elizabeth Weir, Dr. Heightmeyer and now Colonel Carter; of course there'd been other deaths in Atlantis, but these were the ones that haunted him the most. He'd question himself about these losses for the rest of his life, at least in his dreams. He knew how it went. Like most successful officers he knew, he didn't spend much waking time obsessing about these things, but ghosts often arrived once he closed his eyes.

The most recent loss of Sam Carter had triggered all the others once more. As always, Aiden Ford's loss over two years ago now, felt the most bitter. _I should have been able to save him, _John thought. _I should have convinced him to come back with me._ For John Sheppard the refrain would always be the same. The young lieutenant, still in his twenties when he joined the Atlantis expedition, had so much promise both as a man and as a military leader. He was only beginning to come into his own. Ford trusted Sheppard, at least he did before the enzyme. John had been his mentor, and many times, a big brother, guiding him through the challenges of a brave new world. All of that changed with the enzyme. Then he'd watched the hive ship explode with Ford on it.

Sheppard woke with a start. As he usually did after these dreams, he threw the object nearest his bed. This time it was digital clock that shattered as it hit the opposite wall. Destroying things did nothing to ease his anger or grief, but it felt good for a fleeting moment or two.

"Damn it!"

Wakefulness came quickly for the lieutenant colonel. With it, came recollection of today's significance. The newly appointed leader of Atlantis would be arriving today. The IOA, in their infinite wisdom, had passed over all of the military candidates, including Sheppard, and chosen Richard Woolsey as the new commander.

Sheppard would need his wits about him today. His reactions would go far in setting the tone for the new command. As it was, reaction to Woolsey's appointment had been swift and angry among expedition members over the past two days. Like Sheppard, few could comprehend how the raving bureaucrat, a pencil-pushing coward as far as many were concerned, could possibly contribute to Atlantis, much less lead the expedition.

OoOoOo

On the hive ship, Sam had awoken after yet another restless sleep. She heard something in the distance -- voices, a hissing Wraith, screams of agony. Then she saw them, clear as day. Jack, his face contorted in pain, and a Wraith, his talon embedded in her husband's chest, draining the life from him as she watched.

"No!!"

Her scream attracted the attention of Denny. As usual he was close by.

"What is it?" Denny asked.

Denny's question broke Sam's concentration for a moment. In that instant, the terrifying image of her husband's death evaporated.

"Jack, my husband, he was here," she said. "They were feeding on him."

"There's no one here but us, Colonel," Denny replied. "They can make you see anything they want."

Sam took a deep breath, at least as deep as she could with the cocoon tightly wrapped around her. _That's right_, she thought. _The Wraith can plant images in my mind. They can make me see things. But why that? Why torture me with that?_

"You will never go back to him you know," Denny said, as if privy to her thoughts. "At least not as the woman you once were. But if you cooperate, they can be merciful. It won't be so bad, so painful. They can give you something to help you feel better."

_What is he talking about?_ Sam wondered in the fog that was now her mind. _Cooperate? With the Wraith? _

"Denny," she said in a soft but determined voice, "first of all, I have no intention of cooperating. Secondly, I will get out of here. It's only a matter of time."

The young man admired the older woman's courage, her defiance in the light of certain defeat. There was a time when he was much like her. But that time had passed. Now he was as different from her and her kind as he was from the Wraith. Still he didn't want to see her suffer. The one she called Oscar could be cruel; he'd seen the creature in action. If only he could convince her to submit. Given her present attitude, that seemed unlikely. Perhaps there was another way he could help her.

"Time won't make any difference, Ma'am," Denny finally stated. "Oscar has all the power here. We can't change that."

_We, well that's better_, Sam thought.

"We?" Sam said aloud. "I know who I am, but who are you? Tell me that much, Denny, who are you?"

TBC

* * *

A/N: Who indeed? The next chapter will answer that much. I plan to write it this weekend. Stay tuned.

As always, I love to hear from you. If the reviews don't come, I worry readers are losing interest, so please push the little button.


	10. Chapter 10 Denny

Chapter 10: Denny

"That's a good question," Denny said. "Who am I? I'm not so sure anymore."

Sam regarded the young man in front of her, cloaked in the ever present shadows of the place. Though the veil of the cocoon blurred her vision, she couldn't miss the dark, obsidian pools of misery that passed for his eyes. Denny had suffered, of that there was no doubt. And to hear him so confused about his identity did not bode well for her future.

"I'd really like to know who you are … at least who you were," Sam encouraged. "Knowing that much would help me understand, talk with you."

He could give her that much. What would it hurt? His soul maybe, his conscience; heck, he wasn't so certain either of those things existed anymore. In reality he had nothing left to lose.

"I was a soldier, like you," he said.

"Really?" Sam questioned. "What kind of soldier?"

"Air Force, Ma'am," Denny said. Sam detected the slightest hint of pride in his voice, even now. "I held the rank of Lieutenant when I went AWOL."

"You were on Atlantis?" That _was_ the only possibility. They were in the _Pegasus_ Galaxy, after all.

"Yes, Ma'am. Lieutenant Aiden Ford, retired you'd might say."

It took a minute for Sam to place the name. Then she remembered, this was the young officer Sheppard talked about so often, the one who'd become addicted to the Wraith enzyme.

"Ford … you were part of the original expedition team, weren't you?" Sam queried, doing her best to wrap her mind around a rapidly changing set of circumstances.

"That's me, at least it was," he replied. "I dare you or anyone else to find much of a resemblance between me and the kid I was back then."

Distraught and exhausted as she was, Sam's heart went out to Denny. She could only imagine the story behind those thoroughly disheartened words. She hoped he would share his story with her. Possibly, once he did, he'd see his way clear to help her.

"What happened to you, Lieutenant?"

"It's a long story. Sure you want to hear it?"

"As you can see, I've got some time on my hands right now," Sam quipped. "Yes, I want to hear it."

"You're the new leader of Atlantis, aren't you? The one who replaced Dr. Weir," Denny said, deftly changing the subject.

"I've been commander of the expedition for a little less than a year now, Lieutenant," Sam answered carefully. She couldn't help but wonder how Lt. Ford knew about events that transpired on Atlantis after his departure. "But as you know, no one could replace Dr. Weir," she added.

Denny nodded solemnly, almost unconsciously agreeing with her words.

_Good, he still feels some connection to Weir, probably to his old team as well_, Sam thought.

"What happened?" Sam prompted again, struggling to maintain her focus on what she knew was a critical conversation.

Denny shifted uncomfortably, beginning to pace in front of the cocoon encasing the commander of Atlantis.

"How much do you know?" Denny asked.

"Only what's in the record. How you were attacked by a Wraith during the initial invasion of Atlantis. If I remember correctly, as he was dying the Wraith injected you with a massive amount of the enzyme they use to prepare their victims for feeding. You became addicted to the substance."

"That about covers most of the first part," Denny agreed. "It was just the beginning though."

"You left Atlantis and went out on your own," Sam supplied. "Sheppard tried, but he couldn't find you for a long while."

"Yeah, I went out on my own," Denny agreed. "Major Sheppard, they all wanted to change me back to that innocent kid they could control. But with the enzyme I was stronger, more capable even than the Major. Maybe he was threatened, I don't know. So I left, got a pretty strong group of young guys together. They were willing to try the enzyme, worked pretty well too. Then that raid of ours failed. It was the Major's fault, stopping to save the damsel in distress."

"The raid where Colonel Sheppard and his team accompanied you and your men," Sam observed, doing her best to recall the records she'd read of earlier missions. "Sheppard's report said you were lost in the explosion of the Hive ship."

"The Major's records said a lot of things, Ma'am," Denny replied. If anything his eyes were darker now, his expression more foreboding than before. "At least three darts escaped that ship before the explosion. I was on board one of them, along with two Wraith who thought I'd come in handy.

"I was alone, like you are now. The rest of my team died on the Hive ship. Sheppard didn't bother looking for me anymore. And I was in the late stages of withdrawal from the enzyme."

"What happened to you?" Sam asked again.

"I changed, that's what happened," he said resolutely, coming to stand still, directly in front of Sam. "I've done some things I never thought I'd do. But they're done, no undoing them now."

_So that's why he can move around so freely_, Sam surmised. _He's serving the Wraith in some way.  
_

"What have you done, Lieutenant?" Sam asked. She hoped that continuing to address him by his rank might trigger a part of his old loyalty. It was a long shot, but it couldn't hurt.

"Whatever he wanted," Denny answered with a disgusted smirk. "I did whatever he wanted. Your Oscar was one of the Wraith who dragged me onto that dart. Seems he had a little thing of his own on the side. A research project was what he called it. Fancied himself some sort of scientist. He knew what was wrong with me immediately. Decided to do something about it too, and play me to his advantage.

"I made a deal with the devil, Colonel," Denny said. "In exchange for a regular supply of the enzyme, I agreed to provide Oscar with a regular source of nourishment, one that was to his liking."

"You brought him … victims?" Sam asked with growing horror.

"I did," he replied. "Whenever he needed them, I went out. He trusted me to come back because he knew he had what I needed."

Sam had seen all manner of cruel and inhumane behavior in the course of her career. Even so, her heart recoiled from the story Aiden Ford presented. The officer John Sheppard described would never have embarked on the mindless slaughter of innocents in order to preserve his own life. It was unthinkable. Yet the man she knew as Denny was telling her he had done just that. If so, Aiden was right, he was light years from the man John Sheppard mentored that first year and perhaps, forever beyond their reach.

"Addiction is a powerful disease," Sam observed. "Sometimes people do things they'd never dream of doing in other circumstances."

"Yeah," Denny said. "I know it's not an excuse, but it is true, at least for me."

Sam thought carefully, at least as carefully as she could with the drugs coursing through her body, before she made her next remark.

"You sound like you regret what you've done," she observed.

"Sometimes," he said. "Other times I know I had no choice."

"What about now, Aiden?" she asked, hoping the use of his proper name would help.

"Don't call me that!" he barked in a voice that made her flinch. "I'm not that man anymore!" Then in a calmer, almost apologetic tone, "Don't you see, I'll _never_ be him again."

Her attention wavering, Sam did her best to regroup. She needed Ford if she had any hope of getting out of here. She had to find a way to appeal to the man who had been a loyal member of the Atlantis team, the man John Sheppard continued to grieve. She was certain a part of Aiden Ford remained in Denny.

"How did you get the name Denny?"

Ford huffed and gave her an ironic smirk. "That's what they called me in school, when I was a kid. 'Aiden', I never did like that name," he said. Sounded soft, weak, not what I wanted to be, even then. Now I don't have to worry about that."

"No, you don't," Sam agreed. "There's nothing weak about you."

Ford nodded, almost appreciatively.

"It's time for me to go now," he said.

"Wait," Sam pleaded. "Let me out of here. Please, help me Lieutenant. I can't stay in this thing any longer."

Ford shook his head. "That's not going to happen, Colonel. I couldn't do it, even if I wanted to."

Sam closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her own strength of will. She was so tired, so frustrated. If he wouldn't help, she wasn't certain how much more of this confinement she could take. There was a part of her that wanted to give up. It itself, that was frightening. It had never been her style.

"You _can_ do it," she said. "All it takes is a decision. "You _can_ cut me out of here. Things _can_ change."

"No, Colonel, 'things' cannot change, not for Denny, not for you."

The new voice came from the shadows. Though she couldn't see him yet, Sam had no doubt it was her nemesis, Oscar. How long he'd been there, listening was anyone's guess.

"But as you would say, there is some 'good news'. It is time for you to leave your cocoon," Oscar said. "You and I have more work to do together. And it cannot be done here. Let's begin, shall we?"

With that, Ford silently left the scene. At least Sam could no longer see him. At the same time, Oscar advanced on her, holding instruments that gave her pause. What came next would not be pleasant.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing this story. I'm doing my best to reply to reviews personally. Thanks to the anonymous reviewers as well. Sorry I don't have a way to reply to you individually, but rest assured your comments are highly valued.

As you can imagine, I'm very interested in your reaction to Denny's identity. (I realize that if you don't watch SGA, you might be a little lost. I'll do my best to provide a bit of background. I've only begun to watch it in reruns myself.)

Next chapter up soon … I'm not sure how many to go, but clearly Sam has her work cut out for her!!


	11. Chapter 11 Research

A/N: Wow! Thanks for your enthusiastic responses to the last few chapters. Much appreciated. (**Warning**, spoiler ahead for season 5 of SGA.)

* * *

Chapter 11: Research

Sam woke up to a completely different scene. Gone were the dim lights and drab surroundings of the stasis room. Replacing that eerie peacefulness was the frigid cold of metal against her skin and the glare of overhead florescent lights. Though she had considerably more freedom of movement than in the cocoon, she still found herself in what amounted to four point restraints. She wasn't going anywhere.

In her new environment, Sam gradually became aware of her disturbing lack of clothing. Covered with nothing more than a sheet, she shivered to think of what might have happened in the intervening time.

"I am glad to see you awake, Colonel," Oscar said. "I was beginning to think I may have miscalculated the dosage of your sedative."

"What have you done to me?"

"I am told that among your people you are considered most beautiful. It is a shame the same standard of beauty does not apply among my people," he said in a tone that made her skin crawl.

"I'll ask you again," Sam repeated in as defiant a tone as she could muster, "what have you done to me?"

"Please, do not be concerned," Oscar hissed. "We have done nothing that will not improve your lot in life. We are certain you will be grateful to us, much as the one you call Michael was grateful to your people."

Sam was certain Oscar had no intention of reassuring her with that statement. From what she'd read of the fiasco with the Wraith/human Michael, he'd been anything but grateful.

"You should already be noticing some of the changes," Oscar continued. "Increased visual acuity, more sensitive hearing, the ability to sense my thoughts when I allow it, all of that is a result of our therapy."

"Therapy?" Sam questioned.

"Yes," Oscar replied. "Certainly you did not believe your physicians were the only ones capable of devising gene therapy. The Wraith have been exploring that avenue of treatment for many years now."

_Oh this just keeps getting better and better_, Sam thought. Fortunately, she'd decided to restrict the sarcasm to her thoughts. No need to antagonize her captor further. She was at enough of a disadvantage as it was.

"There has, however, been one complication, Samantha," Oscar said, almost as an afterthought.

_Samantha?  
_

"It seems a foreign substance in your blood, most likely the same substance that made it impossible for us to feed, also interferes with our therapy. Would you have any idea what that substance is?"

"I have no idea what it could be," Sam lied as pleasantly as she could. "Just lucky I guess." _Oops, that one slipped out before I could catch it. Jack would be proud_, she thought.

The flippant nature of her reply was lost on Oscar.

"I thought as much," he said, believing she truly didn't know. "No matter, I have devised complementary proteins to override the effect of the blocking agent. Our research will benefit from the experience of such a unique subject. We are in your debt."

His words echoed uncomfortably in her ears. Of course it could be the sinister nature of what he was telling her, but if this sensation was part of the physical improvements he was talking about, the Wraith could keep them. Her head was pounding, her mind foggy at best and she had the strangest feeling someone other than Oscar was listening to her thoughts. Adding insult to injury, she was cold.

"I'd really appreciate some clothes," Sam said, deciding to concentrate on the one thing Oscar might be willing to fix.

"Ah yes," he replied in his annoyingly condescending tone. "Your kind seems quite obsessed with covering the body. Clothing will be arranged, Samantha."

"And these restraints," she added, deciding to push her luck a step further, "are they necessary?"

"For now, yes," Oscar replied. "In a day or two, I am certain they will have outlived their usefulness. Still, this is far better than the cocoon, is it not?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied with feigned docility. Although she wanted to beat him senseless, Sam had the feeling she might be able to play this miserable game to her advantage. At least she could try. _I'm going to have to play it a bit more low key than you would, Jack,_ she thought.

Things couldn't get much worse? Or could they?

OoOoOo

In the main research complex of Atlantis, Drs. McKay and Zelenka spearheaded the development of new and improved security measures, namely Wraith sensors. With any luck, these sensors, able to swiftly and accurately detect Wraith life signs, would help prevent a recurrence of the Alpha site disaster. Both lead scientists believed it was the Wraiths' ability to successfully infiltrate the base that had made the final tragic outcome inevitable.

It was a difficult undertaking. Making it more so was the management style of Atlantis' new commander. Since his arrival, Mr. Woolsey had done his best to insert himself into each and every aspect of life on base. That included demanding personal oversight of McKay's work.

Some of the more seasoned personnel realized their new leader couldn't go on like this forever; micromanagement, after all, was the sign of a new, insecure leader. Surely, he'd outgrow it.

Others, like McKay, were less optimistic. They found Woolsey's insistence on miniscule accountability annoying at best. In the first two weeks of what many considered his imposed reign, the man had made few friends. With a leadership style the exact opposite of his predecessor, the IOA's command selection had managed to alienate most every department head. Where Sam Carter made her respect and confidence in her people evident from the beginning, Richard Woolsey acted as though the simplest decision was dependent on his say so. Did the man ever sleep? It was clear he had no life.

Like McKay, John Sheppard was nearing the end of his proverbial rope. _Woolsey is an idiot_, Sheppard thought. _He'll get us all killed, if I don't kill him first!_ Woolsey's only saving grace as far as Sheppard could see was his insistence on rooting out the spy. He agreed fully with Woolsey's belief that there was a traitor in their midst, someone passing information to the Wraith, the kind of intel that resulted in the destruction of the Alpha site and Samantha Carter's death.

That person or persons would be found. When that happened, Sheppard wanted the first opportunity to break them.

OoOoOo

Daniel was due any time now.

_Thank God, I finally got through to that little twit, Woolsey!_ Jack thought.

After a long harangue of a conversation with the new commander of Atlantis, Jack finally had what he wanted. The original file tape documenting the destruction of the Alpha site was on its way to Washington. Mr. Woolsey had actually given him a hard time, citing integrity of official records, national security, and other things Jack had totally ignored. Though he wasn't one to purposely intimidate those accountable to him, Jack had made an exception in this case. And Woolsey had caved.

Jack had been a bit more diplomatic in requesting Daniel's assistance. After all, Daniel was a friend. With no encouragement needed, Dr. Jackson agreed to bring the tape to Jack in Washington. He had no idea why the standard courier service from the SGC wasn't up to the job or why Jack insisted on the original in the first place. Regardless, Jack request was enough for him.

Since their visit with Jack at the cabin, both Daniel and Teal'c had done their best to stay in touch. Even with that, Daniel wasn't sure how he'd find his good friend, nearly three weeks after Sam's death. The man wasn't exactly an open book about his feelings in the best of times. Grief certainly hadn't helped the situation. If possible Jack O'Neill had buttoned up even tighter than before.

Once he arrived and saw his friend for the first time in a week, Jack's haggard appearance was worrisome. After very few preliminary niceties, Daniel voiced his concern, not mincing his words.

"Jack, you look like hell," Daniel observed accurately, taking in the droop of his friend's shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. "Are you eating? Sleeping?"

"Could we talk about something else?" Jack asked, clearly intending to do just that.

"Right," Daniel replied, as he stumbled through a pile of empty beer bottles.

"I'm not drunk, if that's what you're thinking."

"Didn't say you were," Daniel retorted. "Fine, we're not talking about your diet, your health, or your alcohol intake. Let's talk about what I'm doing here with this recording."

"Ah, now that I can do," Jack said. "Danny boy, I need your help. For some reason, you are one of the few people I trust."

"Gee, thanks," Daniel said half-heartedly, wondering what Jack had in mind.

"I've got all the equipment we need at my office," Jack said. Then, holding up the recording, he continued, "We're going through this thing frame by frame. I think Sam's still out there and I intend to prove it."

OoOoOo

A/N: First of all, if you're wondering, I don't really hate the character of Richard Woolsey. I just can't imagine him as commander of Atlantis.

Secondly, plot bunnies keep popping into my head for this story, guaranteeing there will be more chapters to come.

And of course, please continue to review. Thanks so much for reading this story. A story can be good, but if no one reads it, what's the point!?


	12. Chapter 12 Motivations

Chapter 12: Motivations

Daniel Jackson was concerned to say the least. Jack looked exhausted. Daniel wondered if his friend had even bothered to go into work lately. Now, all of a sudden believing Sam was still alive and grasping at straws to prove it – well it didn't seem like a good sign.

Daniel understood grief. He'd been in Jack's position. The pain of that initial loss had been overwhelming. He'd been so devastated by Sha're's death that he'd had incredibly realistic dreams that she was still with him. Of course he later learned, those dreams had actually been sent by Sha're to give him a message. Still, denial was his best friend back then. He was fairly certain that's what was going on with Jack.

"What's changed, Jack?" Daniel asked. "Why now?"

"I know she's alive," Jack replied, not really caring if Daniel or anyone else believed him.

"That would be great," Daniel said. "But how do you know?"

"I feel it," Jack said simply. "Every night, I dream about her, the exact same dream. I hear her voice as clearly as if she were standing beside me."

"I know you want it to be so," Daniel said as gently as he could. "But it's a dream."

"She wants me to find her, Daniel," Jack insisted. "She's asking me to find her, depending on me."

"Jack …" Daniel began, hoping to figure a way to reason with his grieving friend.

Jack held up both hands, a sure sign he didn't want to hear what Daniel was preparing to say.

"Ack! Don't say it!" Jack protested. "She's my wife. I know what I know. Hell, I'm the last one to put any faith in this kind of stuff. But this, this is different."

"Okay," Daniel said in a conciliatory tone. "Let's say it is. What's with the tape?"

"I'm looking for evidence of a Wraith culling beam," Jack explained. "I'm thinking she may have been pulled out of there just before the explosion."

"The Atlantis technicians have gone over that tape with a fine toothed comb," Daniel argued. "They didn't find anything to contradict our original assumptions."

"Then they weren't looking hard enough," Jack said. "What can it hurt? Come to the office with me and let's take a look."

"I don't want you getting your hopes up," Daniel said, wondering whether Jack could survive the disappointment. "It won't help."

"It will if I find her."

OoOoOo

Not long after she'd awoken naked on the exam table, Sam was fully clothed and moving about freely within the confines of a securely locked eight-by-ten cell.

To her dismay, there was a large mirror like contraption covering one wall of her enclosure. As she suspected, it was the Wraith version of a two-way mirror, allowing for covert observation of all her activities. More than likely, Oscar, or one of his buddies, was out there observing her every move. She didn't like that, not one bit.

At least she was dressed. And for now, she wouldn't be doing much besides mulling over the conversation she'd had with Oscar only a few minutes earlier.

Shortly after he'd provided her with appropriate clothing and allowed her some privacy to dress, the Wraith had returned. Then, for whatever reason, Oscar chose to answer a question Sam assumed he'd totally ignore. In doing so, he offered his besieged captive important insights as to his motivations and loyalties.

"_Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "What gives you the right to experiment on me?"_

"_What gives __**me**__ the right?" Oscar echoed. "What gave __**you**__ the right to create the one you call Michael?"_

"_That's not what this is about," Sam protested._

"_Oh, but it is," Oscar countered. "More than you know, Samantha."_

_Sam remained silent, waiting for Oscar to continue._

"_He was my hive-mate," Oscar said revealing more than Sam had anticipated. "We were born together, raised together. In your culture, he would be called my brother. His was a brilliant mind; he was a future leader of our kind. We shared much. We've shared thousands of years of silent hibernation. I remained telepathically linked with him during those endless nights. _

"_Your people stole all of that from him, from us."_

_Sam struggled to take in the information Oscar was sharing with her. After all, she'd only recently been given the dignity of clothing and temporary freedom from restraints. He was asking her to believe that both he and Michael had been physically and emotionally harmed by the actions of the Atlantis team. _

"_They were doing their best to help Michael," she said, wondering, in her confusion, whether she believed her own words. Had it after all, been the right choice?_

"_To help?" Oscar asked. "Who exactly were they trying to help, Samantha? Certainly not the Wriath. Perhaps all intelligent creatures would be better off if they were human, like you. Is that what you believe?"_

"_No, of course not," Sam insisted._

"_Is that so? Then it is only the Wraith who are unworthy of continued existence."_

"_I didn't say that," Sam protested._

_She certainly hadn't expected this sort of conversation when she'd posed her initial questions. Oscar had deftly turned the tables on her. Rather than asking why Oscar was victimizing her, she found herself defending questionable actions of her own people against another species. To her surprise, she wasn't sure her arguments would carry the day, even in her own mind._

"_Your people use us for food," she said, describing the obvious complaint of humans against the Wraith. "Surely you can understand that is unacceptable to us."_

"_From your perspective, I am certain it is," Oscar agreed. "Yet this feeding is necessary to preserve __**our**__ lives. We did not ask to be this way. It is all we have known for millennia." _

_Again, Sam had little choice but to be silent. Between Oscar's strongly voiced argument and her own flagging concentration, a response would be ill considered._

"_Your retrovirus robs us of all that we are – our physical appearance, our memories, our culture. It makes us into mindless humans for you to develop in any way you see fit."_

_Sam was aware the prior leadership of Atlantis had discussed the ethical issues involved in the deployment of the retrovirus. Still, they'd never heard the Wraith perspective._

"_You humans have a conveniently flexible sense of morality," the Wraith continued. "When it suits you, you respect the integrity of other life forms. But with the Wraith it does not suit you and so you steal who we are."_

"_So this is vengeance," Sam observed, finally finding her tongue._

"_Vengeance, yes … but more … or so I hope," Oscar replied vaguely._

_Sam nodded, resigned to a fate she could barely imagine. _

"_I understand," she said. And truly she believed she understood the emotions behind Oscar's actions._

"_No, you don't," he said. "But you will."_

OoOoOo

They'd been at it, holed up in the Technical Investigations Lab at the Pentagon for the better part of three hours. Jack had commandeered a state of the art image decryption device as well as the services of a video technician with top security clearance. Together Jack, Daniel and the technician dissected the final minutes of the Atlantis tape. After multiple enhancements, specifically designed to filter the initial glare of the self destruct blast, Jack found the clue he'd been seeking.

"There … look … right there!" Jack shouted.

"I'll be damned," Daniel muttered as he caught the tell tale glimmer of a transport beam in two consecutive stills. Sure enough, the beam encircled Sam and the Wraith standing directly in front of her. By the next still, the scene was completely engulfed by the blast.

"You're right. It was there all along. We didn't see it," Daniel said.

"No, we didn't," Jack agreed, guilt threatening to overtake him all over again.

"What do we do now?" Daniel asked.

"We find her," Jack replied without missing a beat. "We find her and we bring her home."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter held together and made sense. Please let me know what you think.

I especially would appreciate any insights from readers who feel they have a fairly good handle on the Wraith as portrayed in canon. I'm doing a lot of this without background as I've missed many episodes.

Thanks again for continuing to read and review. More will be revealed this weekend.


	13. Chapter 13 Considerations

Chapter 13: Considerations

Within seventy-two hours of Richard Woolsey's arrival, Anita Lattimore realized the IOA representative was in over his head. She'd watched from a safe professional distance as the experienced public servant and talented bureaucrat stumbled through the motions of assuming command. Since the man had never commanded anything more complicated than a secretarial staff, it was no surprise he managed to alienate several critical personnel within the first few hours of his stay, without even breaking a sweat.

Woolsey was not a diplomat, he was not a soldier and he certainly was not an inspirational leader. Sure he could balance budgets, stick to a timetable and ferret out gossip, innuendo and scandal with the best of them, but that was hardly the skill set required for his latest assignment. Without a doubt, the well meaning gentleman had been set up to fail.

To his credit, Mr. Woolsey appreciated his predicament. It had been easy to critique Sam Carter's performance, to find fault with how things were done, especially after the fact. Actually being the one to manage the whirlwind that was Atlantis, making the decisions and assuming the responsibility, was another story altogether. He needed help.

He'd shared his concerns with his IOA superiors shortly after his arrival. He even admitted to John Sheppard that he would need guidance in dealing effectively with the multiple challenges the base presented. While his superiors simply told him not to worry, Sheppard had graciously put his skepticism aside and offered his assistance.

And finally, driven to distraction by the end of his first week, Woolsey sought the counseling services of Anita Lattimore. She'd been waiting for him.

Since that initial session, he'd seen her twice weekly, each time feeling as though he could survive his ordeal for a couple more days. He was back this morning.

"Hello, Richard," Anita greeted him. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm not sure," he said. Admitting indecision was actually a sign of progress for this man. "I've been here nearly three weeks and I feel totally alone, except for you of course."

"I'm glad you feel you can talk to me," Anita said. "But this can be a lonely place; I shouldn't be your only confidant."

"That's easier said than done, I'm afraid."

"Action is often more difficult than words."

"I've always been okay with going it alone, following what I knew was right, whether or not others agreed," Woolsey observed.

"Being in another galaxy can change all that," Anita aptly observed. "You've taken yourself away from everything that was familiar."

Woolsey nodded silently in agreement.

"I wish I had the people skills Colonel Carter had," he said, longingly. "Why I drew this posting I'll never know, Anita. I must have been out of my mind to accept it."

"Why did you accept it, Richard?"

"I thought I could make a difference, I suppose. I was tired of always being the one to criticize, to find fault. People think I enjoy that. I don't. I _want_ people to like me."

Anita regarded her new client with compassion. As abrupt and doctrinaire as he often seemed, he was in genuine pain at this point in his life.

"We've discussed your misgivings about the position," she said, acknowledging their previous conversations. "But the fact is, you're here. Tell me, what abilities do you bring to you job? Political motivation aside, someone thought you were qualified to be here."

"That's true," Anita's client admitted. Then after a moment, he began to take inventory.

"Well, I'm a critical thinker, I look at things from all sides and I'm reliable. I do what I say I'm going to do and I hold people accountable."

Anita nodded solemnly. "Those are all noble traits, Richard. They show a developed sense of responsibility and a high level of intelligence and dedication."

"But I need help with warmth and personality," he said, frankly stating the obvious.

Anita smiled amicably.

"People tell me I should trust others to do their jobs."

"Hmm…" Anita said thoughtfully. "How do you think that might help?"

"It's rather obvious, isn't it? They know their jobs better than I do."

"Obvious doesn't always mean easy," Anita observed. "It's hard for you to trust these people, isn't it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not big on trust," he said. Suspicion has served me well in my life. People don't always do what they're supposed to do. And if I'm going to do my job, I have to be prepared to pick up the pieces."

Without warning, Woolsey's pager sounded before Anita could reply. Its digital display was familiar -- "Unscheduled off-world activation." As he activated his earpiece, he could hear the klaxons sounding. The therapy session was over.

_Who could that be?_ He wondered, nodding absently at Anita and rapidly making his way to the transport station. _I was hoping for some down time. Doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon..._

If he only knew how right he was…

Thanks to the wonders of Ancient teleportation technology, Richard Woolsey was back in the central control center within minutes.

"It's Stargate Command, Sir," the gate technician informed him. "They have a team on their way."

"Lower the shield," Woolsey ordered.

The SGC team consisted of two men, both familiar faces to Woolsey. Still, he was taken by surprise. The purpose of this visit was anyone's guess.

"General O'Neill, Dr. Jackson," he said, walking down to greet the pair as they walked through the event horizon. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I don't think it'll be a pleasure for any of us, Woolsey," Jack barked irritably. "But we need to talk."

OoOoOo

Moments later, Woolsey was in his office, Jack and Daniel sitting uncomfortably on the other side of the desk. Only weeks ago, this had been Sam's office. Like many other things, it wasn't right. But here they were, doing their best to convince Atlantis' commander to help them in the search for Sam.

"Personally, I can't see what could justify the risk," Mr. Woolsey said calmly, having listened to the pair's initial arguments. "We don't know for sure Colonel Carter is still alive and we don't know where she is."

"Then help us find out," Daniel suggested.

"Excuse me, General," Woolsey said, addressing Jack O'Neill in particular, "but the Colonel is only one person. I can't commit the resources you're requesting…"

With that, Jack stood up, towering over the smaller, still seated man.

"Read my lips, Richard," he said menacingly. "We don't leave our people behind."

"I understand, really I do," Woolsey replied, getting to his feet, "but …"

Jack wasn't having it. "Sam and I have _personally_ saved your butt on more than one occasion. You owe us, _personally_. Teal'c and Colonel Mitchell are on their way. I've got a team of four as it is. All I'm asking is that you loan us a jumper and assign Sheppard and McKay to my team. They know the lay of the land. We've got a better chance with them on the team."

"You've only asked that I risk the two most senior members of my staff on a questionable hunt for someone who is very likely deceased."

By now, Daniel had gotten to his feet as well. Jack looked as though he was ready to have a stroke. If this went any further, he was going to punch Woolsey. It would be Daniel's unenviable task to restrain his friend should it come to that.

"Woolsey …" Jack bellowed.

Fortunately for everyone, they were saved by an overly curious physicist with little regard for closed doors. Rodney had been unable to resist the temptation of listening outside Woolsey's office door. And he couldn't avoid hearing the raised voices of the main verbal combatants.

His knock on the closed door was welcomed by most everyone involved.

"Come in," Woolsey called. _Saved by the bell,_ he thought, breathing a sigh of relief.

"We volunteer," Rodney said.

"What?" Woolsey asked.

"We volunteer for the mission, Sheppard and I, that is," McKay clarified. As he presumed to speak for the highest ranking military officer on Atlantis, Sheppard walked up behind him, quite interested in what was going on.

"I couldn't help but overhear," McKay went on. "You know we're perfect for the job. We volunteer. If Sam's out there, we'll find her."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!

Hopefully I'll get another chapter written this weekend. We have a major winter storm in my neck of the woods, so I'm not going anywhere for awhile.


	14. Chapter 14 Changes

Chapter 14: Changes

Far from Atlantis, at the edge of the Pegasus galaxy, a lone dart emerged from a hyperspace window. The dart carried two passengers. One was a captive, the other a conflicted quasi-human pilot. The flight was the beginning of the end for both of them.

_I don't know if I can do this anymore,_ Denny thought.

It had been one of many similar missions. He'd been sent by Oscar to capture yet another hapless victim, someone specially selected for the perceived strength of their life force. Even now, the latest young woman slept fitfully in the rear seat of the small craft. Sedated, she had little idea of the fate that awaited her. With any luck, she would be killed before she awakened. But it was doubtful Oscar would be that considerate.

Denny had been the harbinger of death for several humans like this one. He'd quietly lull them into a false sense of confidence with his innocent, human appearance and pleasant façade, then spring the trap. Once captured, the poor souls were offered up to Oscar in exchange for Denny's next dose of the enzyme.

He'd grown used to it for awhile, immune to the horror of what he was doing. But since meeting Colonel Carter, Denny had started to see things differently. He wondered if Oscar had any idea how his star subject had affected his favorite human slave. After all, Denny's slave master had specially selected Sam Carter. The rebel Wraith scientist was privy to information that made her irresistible.

The man who used to be Aiden Ford had put Oscar in contact with a renegade member of the Atlantis expedition, someone with the know how to covertly transmit information, someone willing to give that information to the Wraith, for a price. It was from this spy Oscar first learned of Colonel Carter and her assignment to Atlantis. Her qualifications swiftly caught his attention.

In his report, the spy had glowingly noted the Colonel's exemplary military and scientific achievements, as well as her skills as a leader. He'd also highlighted the esteem in which Sam was held by the people under her command. Those paid observations had been enough to convince Oscar that Sam Carter was the perfect subject for his precious experiment. She met all his specifications.

Oscar wasn't the only one impressed. Once he met her, Denny was also convinced this Air Force Colonel was an extraordinary woman, but for entirely different reasons. Despite the extremes of her imprisonment and the fact rescue was highly unlikely, she'd refused to freely divulge information to her captors. She'd remained defiant for weeks, refusing to give Oscar the satisfaction of tears or panic. And she'd done her best to appeal to whatever humanity remained in Denny.

He'd worked hard to fend off her influence. After all, to his knowledge, there was still no cure for his addiction. He didn't relish the thought of going through withdrawal or losing the super-human strength and endurance he'd gained. But all of that came at a price. Being around Sam Carter reminded him of that price. And that reminder had made the most recent mission all the more abhorent.

OoOoOo

Sam could feel the Wraith mind pushing insistently against her own. She'd learned that the more she resisted these invasions, the harder Oscar pushed, intimidating her with fearful mental images and threats. On the other hand, when she gave in, he seemed content to stop with nothing more than suggestions for seemingly harmless behavior.

Today he simply wanted her to regulate the temperature in the hive control room. He could have asked her nicely, but recently every task had become a test of his new found power over her mind.

This time, Sam gave in; she found herself doing that more and more often. It wasn't so much Oscar wearing her down as it was Sam letting him believe he was in control. At least that's what she told herself. Better yet, her apparent docility and cooperation had gone far toward gaining her new levels of freedom.

That freedom gave birth to hope. Hope was a powerful force. Each tiny smidgen was motivation to work for more, no matter how bleak the prospects. And the prospects were becoming bleaker; Sam was gradually forgetting why she was resisting Oscar in the first place.

To Sam's dismay, her memories of personal events and history, her sense of self was fading away. Though she clearly remembered complex formulas for interstellar travel, the specifics of her own life were becoming more and more difficult to recall. With each passing day her ability to remember people she'd left behind, people who'd been important in her life, diminished. Though random names would come to mind, she was at a loss to place them. Remembering how her life intersected with theirs was out of the question.

One face, however, remained clearly etched in her mind's eye. He was older, his hair was silver and he had the most penetrating brown eyes. Somehow, she knew his name was Jack. He was dear to her. Of that much she was certain.

OoOoOo

Three days later, Oscar paced the corridor leading to the stasis chamber. If a Wraith could be anxious, he was the epitome of anxiety.

His experiments were reaching a new and telling stage. Where initially Sam's reactions to the inoculations had been slow and unpredictable, recently her responsiveness had skyrocketed. She'd become remarkably susceptible to telepathic suggestion from himself and his fellow Wraith. What's more, her physical strength and stamina had increased exponentially. The success of the injections in this realm, given her recent confinement, was a source of special satisfaction. After all, his subject would need considerable physical endurance to survive the trials ahead.

Best of all, from Oscar's perspective, almost without her knowing it, Sam's level of self awareness was rapidly diminishing. She'd become sufficiently compliant over the past few days that restraints were no longer deemed necessary, even when she was unguarded. Unaware of her own identity, Sam Carter had nowhere to run.

Even now, his prize subject was completing a test of her new abilities. She'd done well in previous tests. This one was harder.

She'd been assigned to bring him the young woman Denny captured three days ago. The semi-conscious captive had been stored in a cocoon over the past seventy-odd hours. Now Oscar was ready to feed.

In order to complete her task, Sam would need to cut the woman free of the cocoon and likely drag her kicking and screaming before Oscar. There the hapless victim would doubtless meet her death.

Sam Carter knew what would happen. This was the penultimate test of loyalty. If she passed, more would be expected of her.

The true purpose of Oscar's work was unfolding.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Feedback greatly appreciated. Please review. 


	15. Chapter 15 Completion

Chapter 15: Completion

He'd been overruled.

In his own command, he'd been overruled. At least that was one way to look at it. The old way, Richard realized.

To his new way of thinking, the one he'd decided to practice with Anita's encouragement, he was allowing experienced members of his team to do their jobs. In the end it had been that new perspective coupled with the fear of bodily harm from General O'Neill which led him to accept Rodney McKay's offer of assistance.

It was clear these people remained strongly loyal to their former commander. Keeping them from searching for her, now there was an indication she could be alive, would be counterproductive at best. And just maybe O'Neill was right. Richard had to admit, that was often the case. If Sam Carter was alive, he would want to have her back.

So with some misgivings, Mr. Woolsey authorized the use of a jumper and assigned Sheppard and McKay to the search team. They had their work cut out for them. With no idea where to start, they were resigned to beginning with some basic reconnaissance work. Breaking into two teams (Woolsey had finally agreed to **two** jumpers) they would do their best to track Wraith movements through a group of friendly planets.

Before they left on the first of many such forays, Teyla, now heavily pregnant, had done her best to direct them by means of her telepathic connection to the Wraith. Unfortunately, her frustration with being physically unable to join the search had been compounded by her failure to turn up any clues as to Sam's location. Despite that disappointing attempt, she pledged to continue her efforts in the team's absence and communicate any intelligence she unearthed.

And Ronon? When the headstrong Satedan heard there was a rescue mission afoot he'd simply informed Richard Woolsey he'd be leaving "for as long as it takes." What could Richard say to that but, "Good luck, bring her home, son."

OoOoOo

Aboard Oscar's ship, Sam was rapidly progressing towards the final stages of the experiment. As her self awareness continued to slip away she clung to the memory of Jack's face, and a silent mantra of her own creation. _He's coming, he's coming, he's coming …_ Without even knowing what those words meant or exactly what she was waiting for, she clung to their reassuring sound. It would make a difference. She knew it would. Somewhere under the flat, unresponsive façade that had once been her beautifully animated face, she knew her feelings for that man would make a difference.

For now, she had more immediate concerns. She was continuing a hidden transformation into something she couldn't comprehend. Though she noticed only minimal physical changes, primarily in the flexibility of her fingers and the subtle configuration of her hands, the most profound effects were in her battered psyche. Her mind was in a constant state of upheaval, her sleep was disturbed and disjointed and she was hungry. It was the strangest thing. She was never deprived of food during her stay here, yet suddenly over the past few days, she'd experienced a gnawing hunger unsatisfied by any meal that was presented to her.

She was confused. Unexpectedly consumed by a strange compulsion, feeling as though normal food, the bread and vegetables she'd been given here, were no longer sufficient, she was uneasy. She knew she needed something more, yet had no idea what it was or how to get it.

That's when Oscar summoned her yet again. He'd left her alone for the better part of a day. In itself, that was a gift. It had given her a chance to recoup her physical and emotional strength after yesterday's devastating test. Oscar had made her watch as he fed on the poor girl she brought to him. The feelings of revulsion that coursed through her at the sight reminded her she did not belong here. She felt a profound sense of guilt and remorse, yet she was frozen to the spot, her body refusing to take action. Part of her knew how wrong this was; another part of her scoffed at her reluctance, telling her what she'd witnessed was simply a part of the fabric of life.

And so she remained conflicted and utterly confused. She was a prisoner within her own body.

When Sam reached Oscar's laboratory, he was waiting for her. The embittered Wraith scientist was standing by the central table, looking particularly satisfied with himself. Next to him was yet another human victim, most likely recently awakened from his cocoon facilitated sleep. The man appeared to be in his mid thirties. Dressed in the clothes of a peasant, he was clearly terrified, and for good reason.

_Please, don't make me watch again_, Sam thought. The emotions triggered by the sight of yesterday's feeding had been complicated and painful; they were still with her. Sam wasn't ready for that again. She had no idea why he would demand it of her.

"Don't worry, my dear," Oscar said aloud. "You will not be the one watching this time."

"Then I can go?" Sam asked. She was confused as to why he had summoned her.

"No, no, you must stay," Oscar insisted. "I have selected this one for you. He is young and strong, full of vibrant life and energy, even if tainted with fear at the moment."

"For me?" Sam asked. Oscar's meaning slowly became clear. After what had been happening to her the past few days, it all began to make sense.

"Yes," he said simply, no longer calling her by her name. "You have known the hunger. Now it is time for you to feed."

OoOoO

It was a spectacle he thought he'd never witness. Concealed in the shadows, Denny had watched in horror as Samantha Carter began to drain the life from a helpless human being. It was unthinkable, even to him.

From the look on Sam's face, he knew it was unthinkable to her as well. No sooner had she pushed her right hand forcefully into contact with the victim's chest and begun to feed, than she pulled away in disgust. Eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream, what was left of the brave Colonel put distance between herself and the victim. Then, bringing her right hand level with her eyes, she realized what had really happened to the palm of her hand. A feeding aperture had developed and she had used it, instinctively, when the victim was proffered.

With complete, but mindless defiance, she'd screamed, "No, I will not!" Denny realized this was instinct as well, the revulsion felt by the still human part of Colonel Carter. It was unlikely she knew herself by that name or any other at this point. Yet, under all the chemical alteration, she was there, continuing to refuse that final transformation Oscar was trying to force on her. Then, as suddenly as she'd screamed, she fell silent, her face returning to the blank, emotionless slate it had become of recent days.

_So that's what he's done to her_, Denny thought, his mind recoiling. _Made her a Wraith? But what reason could he have? What purpose could this possibly serve?_ Then he remembered._ Oscar doesn't need a purpose. Sometimes he's simply cruel and vengeful. Sometimes he does things because he can, for sport, or he'd say for science._

The Wraith's purpose aside, Denny's decision was made in the terror of that feeding scene. He realized he should have acted sooner, but that was beside the point. He had to find a way to get her out of here. He couldn't let this happen to her. To become like the Wraith, at least in their compulsion to feed, would be a fate worse than death, something she didn't deserve.

He'd been honest when he'd told Sam there was no escape without backup and weapons. Even he wasn't trusted with access to weapons. What's more, he needed backup to get her out of here now. He didn't expect she'd be of much help in her current confused, disoriented condition.

The good news was he knew where to get the help he needed. His life would change forever once again, but he knew what he needed to do.

It wouldn't be long before Oscar sent him out again. Then Denny would be on his way back to Atlantis.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I can tell from your reviews I'm making some folks a bit nervous about the likely outcome of this story. As much as the mental health therapist in me wants to reassure you, I also don't want to ruin the story. So all I can say is please continue to trust the storyteller and keep reading! 

I hope the payoff will be worth the wait!!

Thanks for reading!!


	16. Chapter 16 Search

Chapter 16: Search

Jack O'Neill fiddled with his backpack as he sat nervously in the back seat of the puddle jumper. Letting Sheppard pilot the craft for the trip back to Atlantis had been a hard fought concession, but given the younger man's experience it made sense.

Today it was one of the few things that did.

Most people believed Jack's incessant fiddling with things kept him from thinking too much. Only those who really knew him realized the more he fiddled, the more he obsessed over whatever was bothering him.

Today was no exception.

Jack was obsessing…

_That was our third planet. Here at least the natives were friendly, but they didn't have any more information about the Wraith than the last bunch._

_I know she's alive. If I could only figure out where she is…but I can't. It's like searching for a needle in a haystack. She could be anywhere in the galaxy._

_She's probably on a hive ship. But last I heard there were about sixty of those, all hyperdrive capable and scattered throughout the galaxy. She could be on any of them. We can't very well find, let alone board them all. We should've been looking sooner. We could have tracked her right after the explosion. But no, they assumed she was dead. Hell, I assumed she was dead when they played me that god-forsaken tape._

_We need some decent intel. We're working in the dark here. Sheppard's decided to try and contact a Wraith he calls Todd to see if he knows anything that can help us. At this point I'm willing to try most anything._

_We should be landing in Atlantis soon. It's sure a rush to go through that space gate. Still, none of it matters without her._

_Sam, where are you?_

_OoOoOo_

Teal'c was every bit as frustrated as Jack. He'd joined the search for Sam at its inception a full week ago, taking an indefinite leave from his duties on the Jaffa Council. His team had returned from their latest reconnaissance with empty hands only an hour before O'Neill's. Now, before he settled down for some much needed Kel'no'reem, he reflected on the seeming exercise in futility.

_I am a patient man. I can wait when it is necessary. It is not something I enjoy, however I can do it._

_In this situation I do not feel patient. Samantha Carter is missing and most likely injured. As of yet, we have gathered no usable information. It is most unusual to feel so powerless. _

_I watch O'Neill. I can understand his grief and anxiety. I want to assist him, but I am helpless. It is not a condition that I enjoy. _

Teal'c isolated musings were interrupted by a single rap on the door to his quarters, followed by the rapid, still verbally unauthorized entrance of his friend, Daniel Jackson. Daniel, who'd just returned with Jack's team, looked as frustrated as Teal'c felt. But he, as usual, wanted to share.

"I don't believe it," Daniel said, literally storming into the room on a rant. "I can't believe none of these people know anything. What kind of allies do we have, if they can't provide any information?"

"Daniel Jackson, I do not believe the worlds we have visited are withholding information. They have simply had no recent contact with the Wraith. We are assured by the Atlantis crew that as you say, 'no rock remains unturned' in our interviews with these people."

"No stone, Teal'c," Daniel corrected. "No stone remains unturned. Yeah that's what Sheppard and the rest of them tell us."

"You do not believe him?"

"I'm sure he believes what he's saying," Daniel said. "But we're missing something. Between our two teams, we've visited six of Atlantis' closest allies. All of these people have had ongoing contact with the Wraith over the past few years. Someone must know something."

"Samantha Carter is important to us. Perhaps she is not as important to the Wraith," Teal'c suggested.

"What are you saying?"

"Only that she may be nothing more than one more captive for them," Teal'c continued. "Perhaps nothing they would see as special or speak to others about."

"You mean … they'd just preserve her for … future use?" Daniel asked.

"Indeed, she would be nameless as are the others."

"I don't want to think about that," Daniel said honestly.

Teal'c nodded his agreement.

OoOoOo

Though he'd been less than hopeful about the chances of finding Colonel Carter, Richard Woolsey sincerely wanted the teams' efforts to succeed. The fact that his skepticism about their odds of success now appeared well founded gave him little comfort.

Both teams were back in Atlantis, after a week of travel, hunting, questioning and searching, all apparently in vain. They were exhausted and understandably discouraged. There were no leads.

John Sheppard was even now attempting to reach his "sometimes" ally, Todd, hoping he might have clues he'd be willing to share. That was probably their best hope at this point. For his part, Richard didn't put much faith in anything any Wraith had to say. On that he agreed with Ronon, but right about now, he was willing to try anything.

"Mr. Woolsey?"

Richard turned towards the voice that called his name. He saw a clearly fatigued, uncharacteristically disheveled Jack O'Neill standing in his doorway.

"Am I interrupting?" Jack asked as he proceeded to walk in and take a seat.

"General O'Neill," Richard returned the formal greeting. "Have a seat," he offered after the fact, taking a seat opposite the visiting officer and distraught husband.

"Thank you," Jack replied.

"I'm told it was a long week for the search teams," Richard Woolsey observed. "I'm sorry there wasn't better news."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, me too," he said. Jack looked uncomfortable. "Thing is, I wanted to thank you for supporting the search, for agreeing to your people's participation."

"I don't think I could have stopped them if I wanted to," Woolsey replied.

"Yeah, that's probably true," Jack said with a smirk. "But still, thanks."

"What now?" Richard asked.

"We keep looking," Jack said simply. "And we need a break."

OoOoOo

A lone dart took up orbit around the planet Atlantis now called home. It was picked up by Atlantis' sensors almost immediately. Seconds later, Lieutenant Green notified John Sheppard and Richard Woolsey.

Sheppard was the first to acknowledge his page.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"We're detecting a dart in orbit around the planet Sir."

"One dart?"

"Yes, Sir, Only one and it's hailing us."

TBC

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A/N: Thanks to all for reading and reviewing. 


	17. Chapter 17 Return

Chapter 17: Return

"A dart, hailing us? You sure he's not shooting at us?" Sheppard asked as he rapidly entered the control room. The appearance of any Wraith vessel was seldom a positive sign.

"I'm sure, Sir," the young lieutenant replied. "He's hailing us, maintaining his distance."

"Okay, open a secure channel," Sheppard said. "Let's hear what he has to say."

The video link came up seconds later. Sheppard was more than surprised to see a man he'd mourned so long, alive and asking to speak with him.

Aiden Ford appeared a faded image of his former self. His hair had thinned, and what was left was graying. His face was drawn, its expression hardened into a perpetual frown. The injured left eye, which had given him a sinister look ever since his encounter with the Wraith, drooped slightly, adding to his less than friendly appearance. As far as Sheppard was concerned the purpose of this unexpected call was anyone's guess.

"Lieutenant Ford?" Sheppard began cautiously. Last he knew, the young man had been blown away in an exploding hive ship.

"Yeah, it's me, Major," Denny said. Then correcting himself, "But you're a Lt. Colonel now, right?"

"Sounds like you've managed to stay in the loop," John observed.

"You could say," Denny replied. He decided to get down to it. There wasn't time to waste. Colonel Carter needed help.

"I'm here to ask for help, Colonel," Denny said.

"Help?"

"I can't explain from here, least not so you'll believe me. Let me land and we'll talk."

"You've been gone a long time, Aiden," Sheppard observed. "If I were a betting man, I'd say you'd been with the enemy. You know, coming here with the dart and all."

"You'd win the bet," Denny admitted. "But that's not really the point. I need to talk with you about Colonel Carter."

OoOoOo

You could have knocked Sheppard over with a feather. The possibility that the long missing Aiden Ford was returning out of the blue with news about Samantha Carter seemed too good to be true. And those things that were too good to be true usually were. Caution was in order, no doubt about it.

Scans of the dart indicated only one life sign, presumably Ford. With the approval of Woolsey and the remainder of the senior staff, Ford was met by two of the Daedelus' fighter craft and escorted to a safe and supervised landing.

Less than twenty minutes later, flanked by two security officers, the man once known as Lieutenant Aiden Ford entered the main conference room. He walked into a room full of expectant faces and mixed emotions. Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon and McKay were there, anxious to welcome him home, yet sure it wouldn't be that simple. Waiting along with the others were Jack, Daniel, Teal'c and Cam Mitchell hoping against hope he had information that would lead them to Sam. Richard Woolsey was there too, his overriding concern to maintain the security of the base in the face of a man who for all they knew had been consorting with the enemy.

As those familiar to Lt. Ford, Sheppard and his team had been elected to handle the preliminary conversation and if appropriate, debrief the no longer missing marine.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," John said.

"Thank you, Sir," Denny said. Then turning to either side, glaring at his guards, he asked, "Are these guys really necessary?"

"I'd say so." It was Woolsey who spoke now, unable to contain himself. "You come in on a dart, unannounced after two years, a little caution is warranted."

"Richard Woolsey, new commander of the base," Sheppard supplied the introduction. He then proceeded to introduce Jack and the team from the SGC. Finally, he motioned to the nearest chair and all but commanded, "Sit down, Lieutenant, we're anxious to know why you're here."

"And what do you know about Colonel Carter?" Jack added.

"You replaced her pretty quick," Denny observed, jumping on Sam's name and doing his best to place his inquisition team on the defensive. "Did you even look for her? She was the commander here, and you replaced her with him?" Denny motioned toward Richard Woolsey, quickly spotting an unprepared civilian when he saw him.

John stared his team into submissive silence and fielded Denny's loaded question with aplomb.

"We thought she died in the destruction of an off-world base. We had no reason to believe she was still alive."

"Well she is," Denny said, "and she's in trouble."

"Where is she?" Jack asked, unable to be still.

"Aboard a hive, the same one I've been living on the past two years," Denny supplied.

"And I suppose you know how to get us there," Jack suggested.

"I do."

John Sheppard nodded. "Aiden, why didn't you bring her with you? Looks like you move around freely."

"Looks can be deceiving, Colonel," he said, stating the obvious. "The Wraith Colonel Carter calls 'Oscar' sends me out on hunting trips every once in awhile. That's all. Don't think he'd let me take the Colonel on a joy ride. It's a one person trip. And in her current condition, she'd never be able to fight her way out."

"What do you mean, her current condition," Daniel asked.

"He's been giving her injections," Denny supplied sadly. "That's why I decided to come. She'd not herself anymore. She doesn't deserve what's happening to her."

OoOoOo

The initial debrief lasted a little over an hour. Sheppard suggested adjournment once it started to feel more like an inquisition than a meeting. It was inevitable. Once Jack O'Neill and SG1 realized Denny actually knew what was happening to Sam, they'd insisted on as much information as they could obtain, wanting to know everything at once. Sheppard realized some things would have to wait, at least until they could clarify their visitor's true motives.

After a brief break where Denny was subjected to further medical examinations and blood work to confirm he was who he said he was, Sheppard met privately with the man he preferred to call Aiden Ford.

"So you got off the ship before it exploded?" John observed dispassionately.

"Yep."

"And you've been with the Wraith over two years now?"

"Right again, Colonel."

"Why? If this Oscar character lets you out to hunt for him, why do you go back?"

"Because he's got something I need."

"The enzyme."

"You remember. I'm touched."

Sheppard looked at him. No longer the innocent, somewhat naïve, easily impressed young man who'd fallen backwards through the wormhole on his very first trip to Atlantis, Aiden Ford looked jaded, battle weary and even old. John wondered whether his Wraith friends had drained a bit of his life force along the way. The once young man was hardly a gleaming advertisement for the enzyme.

"I remember, Aiden. I remember a promising officer who had everything to live for, throwing it all away for a quick fix, a magic bullet. How's that workin' for you?"

"You're telling me you don't think I look so good. Can't argue that, Colonel," Denny said. "Can't keep doing what I've been doing either."

"So what's the deal?"

"I take you to Colonel Carter," Denny said, "then I get to go home."

"Home? You mean Earth?"

"That's the home I'm talking about."

"No enzyme there. Bring any with you?"

"Matter of fact, I did," Denny said. "I gave it to that new doctor of yours."

"Really?"

"It's as much as I could get away with on short notice. I'm hoping it's enough to get me through the withdrawals."

"You're willing to come off it now? Why?"

"You ask why a lot, you know," Denny observed.

Sheppard stood silently, waiting for an answer.

"Because I can't do this anymore, hunting for the Wraith, buying the enzyme with other people's lives."

"You brought them victims?"

"Yeah, Oscar in particular. He has very specific requests."

"That's disgusting," Sheppard said, unable to censor his comments. "How could you…"

"Doesn't matter now, Colonel," he answered.

"I'm afraid it does matter. We need to know whether we can trust anything you have to tell us. Personally, the last time I followed you onto a hive ship because you said you wanted to go home, well … let's just say … I was disappointed."

"Fine … let the Doc do her tests, ask me your questions," Denny said. "But we need to get her out of there. What I did for them is nothing compared to what they'll be forcing her to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's becoming a Wraith, Sir."

"What?"

"You heard me," Denny said. "I didn't want to tell you in front of her husband. I saw her feed."

Sheppard held up his hands in disbelief and briefly walked away from Aiden, doing his best to compose himself. This was _so_ not good."

"That's what made you decide to come back?"

"I need help to get her out of there, she doesn't deserve that."

_There's hope for him_, John thought. _After all this time, Aiden couldn't sit back and watch this happen. _Of course that begged the question. Why now?

"Why now? Two years, watching the Wraith feed on victims you brought them, why all of a sudden is it so distasteful to you?"

The man who used to be Aiden Ford quietly considered the question.

"I'd forgotten what it was like," he finally said, "to be that dedicated, that human, so determined to preserve your humanity. Before the injections started to affect her mind, Colonel Carter and I talked. She made me want to be human again. I didn't think it was possible. I'll bet she was a great commander."

_Sounds like Sam_, Sheppard thought. _Captured, stressed, tortured, she was still reaching out to Aiden's twisted soul. And she reached it._

"Yeah, that she was. We miss her and we want her back."

"I'm ready to take you."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Okay, this quick chapter was to make up for the last short one.

Next chapter will be up this weekend at some point. Actually, I'm going away for the weekend, so only one this weekend. I'll do my best to make it a good one!!

Reviews continue to be greatly appreciated.


	18. Chapter 18 Trust

Chapter 18: Trust

They didn't know.

There was no way to know for sure.

Keller's initial tests confirmed Denny was who he said he was, Lieutenant Aiden Ford. It was unlikely he was a clone; he certainly didn't look like the original Ford.

And, as he said, he'd left a considerable amount of the enzyme with Keller, telling her about his plan for a relatively safe withdrawal from the substance.

At least that much checked out.

As for the AWOL officer's motive for being here, Sheppard hesitated to take what he said at face value. John had been taken in by the drug affected Ford before, a moment of weakness leading to participation in an ill-conceived plot to hijack a hive ship. Still he wanted to believe the man who'd once shown so much promise.

He knew there were more questions to be asked.

OoOoOo

In the infirmary, Jennifer Keller had just finished the last in a series of tests intended to ascertain whether the man calling himself Denny had brought any contagions or otherwise dangerous elements to Atlantis. Now she was preparing to inject him with the first in a series of carefully titrated doses of the Wraith enzyme. The plan called for graduated reductions in the dosage over the next few days. If all went according to plan, her patient would be freed from dependency on the drug within the next two weeks.

As she administered the injection, Denny looked past her, towards the door. His eyes were fixed on an old friend. Standing in the infirmary doorway, looking as though he had no idea what to do next, was Rodney McKay.

"Come on in McKay," Denny called. "It's about time we talked."

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Rodney said, cautiously approaching the younger man.

"Don't worry, Dr. McKay," Keller said. "I don't think he's contagious."

Rodney did his best to nod and appear comfortable as he came to stand next to where Denny was seated.

"Thanks, Doc," Denny said as Keller finished what she was doing and took her leave.

"Pull up a chair Rodney," he invited.

Rodney did as Denny suggested.

"So," he said, carefully clearing his throat, "I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

Denny responded with a wry chuckle.

"How am I doing?" Denny quoted. "Well, not all that well."

"Oh," Rodney said, genuinely surprised. "Really?"

"What, you thought being back on Atlantis would make everything magically like it was before?"

_Okay, I'm no good at this sensitive stuff_, McKay thought, all too accurately.

"Sorry, Aiden," he said. "I'm no good at this. I'll get to the point of why I'm here."

Denny nodded, encouraging him to do so.

"See, I hear you're going to come off the enzyme."

"Yep," Denny replied. "That's the plan."

"I've been through it, here in Atlantis," McKay said. "If you need to talk with anyone, I know what it's like."

"You?"

"Yes, me. I came back to Atlantis from our little visit with you and your boys choke full of the enzyme. Had to go cold turkey. Wasn't a lot of fun, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Denny said grimly. "It's one of the reasons I've stayed on the stuff, done what I've done as long as I have."

Rodney nodded; he'd been privy to the information from Denny's earlier debriefs. This wasn't the same kid who'd left them two years ago. He'd done some damn distasteful, some would say inexcusable, things to feed his addiction. And he looked like hell to boot.

"It's pretty powerful stuff, isn't it," McKay observed. "For awhile there, when I was lying in that bed, shaking my brains out, I would have been willing to do anything it took to get my hands on a few drops. I remember."

Denny regarded him with slightly less suspicion. Maybe Rodneydid get it, a little. If nothing else, the man who used to be his teammate was doing his best to help him feel less alone.

OoOoOo

Aboard the hive ship, Oscar's experiment was progressing. There'd been some minor setbacks, complications perhaps, but he wasn't concerned. Overall Samantha Carter's conversion was coming along nicely. Soon she would be ready to fulfill her purpose.

For the past hour, Oscar had been escorting his apprentice through the length and breadth of the ship, on the pretense of updating her knowledge of the ship's construction and capabilities. In actuality, it was all part of his plan to convince her she was someone other than who she was.

The psychoactive portions of the injections had succeeded in effectively blocking his subject's memories of personal relationships as well as her individual identity. As far as Oscar was concerned the human leader was now his to mold.

Once today's tour of the ship had concluded, the pair moved on to the next order of business, education and re-orientation.

"Who am I?" Sam asked as soon as they'd sat down for a moment. It was a question she asked more and more frequently of her supposed mentor.

"One of us," Oscar answered smoothly.

"I don't look like one of you," she protested, genuinely confused.

"The humans captured you several months ago now. They experimented on you as they have on others of our kind."

"But I remember people, humans, who were important to me. It's fuzzy, confused, but surely some of those memories are real."

"I am so sorry," Oscar crooned with feigned sincerity, "but our adversaries have become quite skilled in the art of brainwashing. You are one of our most renowned scientists, someone greatly honored among our people. The Atlanteans took great pleasure in converting you."

"But for what purpose?"

"To show that they could," Oscar answered. "To undermine us, to dishearten us; they will not be happy until they have destroyed us as a species."

Sam sat quietly doing her best to take this all in.

"There's one face, different from the others," she said. "I see it in my mind all the time. I remember this one's name … Jack."

"Ah, yes… that one," Oscar said. "He was the one in charge of your conversion."

Although she didn't voice her thoughts aloud, Sam was certain Jack would never hurt her. She recalled precious little about him, but that much she knew instinctively.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. He has done the same thing to many of our kind, including my own hive-mate. He is a sworn enemy of our people, intent on our total annihilation."

Sam breathed deeply, attempting in vain to clear her clouded mind. She remained silent. For some reason, this man who claimed to help her was lying. Of that much she was certain. At least about Jack, he was lying.

Each day Oscar encouraged Sam to feed. Her failure to do so in more than a brief, surface fashion slowed the progress of his work and depleted her energy. That would be Oscar's next challenge, helping the converted human move beyond her scruples and learn the true meaning of being Wraith.

OoOoOo

Rodney McKay was preparing to conclude his uncomfortable visit with Denny and leave the infirmary. Before he could make his exit, Jack O'Neill arrived unannounced and proceeded to join the two men. Without invitation he pulled up a chair and sat down.

"How do we get to her without being detected?" Jack demanded without preamble of any sort.

"Good morning, General," Denny said pointedly. "I had every intention of sharing my plan with you."

"Glad to hear it," Jack said. "Now's a good time."

"It's simple really," Denny said, bowing to the inevitable. "You come with me as my new offering for Oscar."

"Oh yeah, there's a plan for you," Jack lashed out his frustration in sarcasm.

"I suppose you have a better one, Sir," Denny said as pleasantly as he could.

Jack's smirk was anything but pleasant. McKay watched him warily out of the corner of his eye, concerned Sam's husband might take a swing at the insubordinate Lt. Ford. The young man was certainly out of practice when it came to military protocol.

"Fortunately for you, _Lieutenant_ … I don't," Jack said in an unfamiliar admission of defeat. "If I did I'd have your ass back on earth for court-martial faster than you could say the word."

Rodney's eyes reflected the tension in the room. He was sure that if Jack pushed hard enough, Aiden Ford would change his mind about helping them.

"So, you think you'll give me a reprieve?" Denny ventured, "Insubordination and all?"

"You help us get her back and I'll work it out," Jack said simply. "But we're not walking into an ambush, not if I can help it."

Rodney nodded his agreement, content now to remain a silent observer.

"I can understand that," Denny replied.

"Then you'll be willing to answer a few more questions for me?"

"Of course, General," he said. "What do you want to know? The details of my plan?"

"Before I hear anymore about the plan, I want some proof you've really seen Sam," Jack said, making his demands a bit more immediate.

"Proof? You want proof?" Denny queried.

"Exactly," Jack said. "For all we know, you heard we were looking for her and decided to take advantage of the situation."

"Yeah," Rodney added, deciding to add his two cents. "How do we know this isn't a set-up? You bring Oscar an interesting dinner maybe you get an extra dose of the enzyme. How do we know you have any idea where Sam is?"

Denny was unperturbed.

"I expected as much," he replied calmly. "I take it they didn't find the 'proof' I brought in the dart.

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked.

"I didn't think so," Denny said. "Hid it pretty well, if I do say so myself."

Rodney stared at him, a look instantly conveying it was time to spill the beans.

"Fine," Denny said. "In a small compartment behind the control panel in the cargo hold, you'll find a sealed envelope. Inside are a set of dog-tags I think you'll recognize."

By now, Jack's deep brown eyes were staring a hole through the unexpectedly earnest informant. The next piece of information sealed the deal, sending the anxious husband headlong towards the docking bay to examine the dart himself.

"And by the way," Denny added, "she kept her wedding rings on the chain as well."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm off to do some last minute shopping for the weekend trip. Thought I'd get down some ideas and viola, another chapter.

Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like.


	19. Chapter 19 Preparations

"And by the way," Denny added, "she kept her wedding rings on the chain as well."

* * *

Chapter 19: Preparations

Once he knew where to look, it didn't take Jack long to find Sam's rings and dog-tags. After his mad flurry of activity, running most of the way to the docking bay and ripping open the compartment, he sat back on his haunches, holding the precious keepsakes in his hands. _She'd never have parted with these if she had a choice. To hell with caution, _he thought. _I can't afford to wait any longer._

It was in this position they found him, no more than five minutes later. McKay and Sheppard had been on his tail all the way to the dart.

"They're hers?" McKay asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, wincing to hold back emotions he needed to keep private. Then after one or two moments of silence, he added. "It's time we got moving and brought her home."

OoOoOo

Questions remained about Denny's motivation; many were concerned he might lead them all into a trap. Still, his information provided the best leads they had. And using the dart he'd brought with him was most likely the best way to extract their captured commander.

Finally knowing where Sam was, Jack was willing to go it alone, if need be. Of course that scenario offered limited possibilities for success. What's more, SG1 and Atlantis personnel would never allow him to go without backup.

In consultation with Sheppard, Woolsey and the rest of the senior staff, it was decided General O'Neill would go as the designated "offering", accompanied by a hidden strike force. While Jack rode with Denny, presenting the expected number of life signs to Wraith sensors, the remaining team members would be concealed in the dart's pattern buffer. The plan called for that team to be beamed out before the sleek aerodynamic craft came to rest in the hive's docking area. 

The success of the plan depended on fooling the Wraith sensors, preventing them from detecting the extra passengers. To that end, Atlantis' scientific team was ordered to redouble their efforts to complete one of their least favorite scientists' pet projects. Said scientist, one David Kavanagh, along with McKay and Zelenka managed to tweak Kavenagh's rough version of a human cloak into a workable personal shield, all within a period of hours. With a little luck, Oscar and his minions would believe Denny and Jack, his newest dinner guest, were the only ones on board the returning dart. 

The highly disagreeable Dr. Kavanaugh had been in and out of active duty on Atlantis' first string research team for the past two years. A man whose ego could compete with McKay's, he was difficult to tolerate in the best of situations. Currently, however, his presence was a mixed blessing. Along with his horribly annoying narcissism, the man was gifted with an apt knowledge of shield mechanics and had turned out to be a quick study when it came to Wraith technology.

Those characteristics made him indispensable to the rescue project. Even McKay needed to take a back seat to Kavanagh as the young upstart successfully integrated the personal shields into the dart's pattern buffer. A thirty-four year old social misfit, David was intellectually brilliant and after studying technology downloads sent by Michael over a year ago, had developed a good working knowledge of Wraith transporter technology. This was Kavanagh's chance to shineand his colleagues were glad to see him make the most of it.

During the final briefing, even McKay was willing to take a back seat as Kavanagh explained the use of the cloak to the strike team.

"Simply put, when the Wraith culling beam takes hold of a subject, his pattern is stored in a buffer to be rematerialized at the appropriate time, most often when the dart returns to a cruiser or hive ship. This mechanism makes it possible to transport up to a dozen passengers, usually prisoners, aboard a small, one or two man vessel, such as the dart. 

"We've decided to make this particular technology work to our advantage. Since the cover story for the returning dart will be Lt. Ford returning with a single prisoner for the Wraith, there will be two detectable life signs on the ship. The rest of the strike force will be beamed aboard shortly after take-off and stored in the pattern buffer. The shielding I've developed will make it impossible for the Wraith to detect the extra cargo carried by the buffer. Once they rematerialized aboard the Hive ship, each member of the team will activate their personal cloak. In that way, they will remain undetected until it is too late."

The team was suitably impressed with Kavanagh's simplified explanation of his technological wizardry. McKay and Zelenka, though slighted as David took complete credit for their work, hoped and prayed the devices would function as advertised.

Then it was Denny's turn to recap his experience of returning from these hunting expeditions. He was as forthcoming as possible about what the team could expect to find.

"Typically I return with a selected captive, usually within three to five days. My dart enters one of the hive's docking bays. Then I fly through the bowels of the ship to the landing pad. Shortly after touch down, I'm met by Oscar himself. It seems he can't contain his enthusiasm about new acquisitions.

"Actually, when I've returned from the last three hunts, Oscar has brought Colonel Carter with him to meet me. If he does so this time, we might be able to move almost immediately. That is if the strike force is in place.

"That brings me to the next thing you need to know. The darts assigned to cull local populations return with multiple captives. They fly over holding cells or the stasis chambers on their way to the landing pad. They deposit their cargo in the assigned location before landing. I've suggested to Colonel Sheppard that I beam down the strike force in the most advantageous location before proceeding to the landing area." 

Everyone was quiet at that point, waiting for their superiors to confirm the final plan.

Sheppard and O'Neill had agreed to co-lead the strike force. Realistically, command would fall largely on John Sheppard's shoulders; O'Neill would be otherwise occupied as Oscar's dinner guest. Jack hadn't bothered to ask why it had to be him; he'd been content to realize he'd be the first one to see Sam. However as the planning session reached its conclusion, Daniel, well aware of Jack's strategic and leadership abilities, asked whether the General wouldn't be of more use setting up the ambush. 

It was at that moment Denny shared the final pieces of information with Jack O'Neill and the team. Prior to this, Jack hadn't known the details of Sam's conversion. No one had coveted the job of telling him. Unfortunately, now he needed to know. He needed to know that in her current state, he might be the only one with a chance of reaching her.

Finding out wasn't pretty. 

Learning Sam was slowly being transformed into a hybrid creature of some sort was as devastating for Jack as the others imagined it would be. In rapid succession, a myriad of emotions flashed across his face. Just as rapidly they were replaced once more by the military mask. What everyone recognized beyond a shadow of a doubt was the look of outrage and murderous anger they'd seen on the black ops trained soldier. It wouldn't take much to provoke the man to kill anyone who stood in his way on this mission.

Without a doubt, Wraith would die today.

OoOoOo

In the midst of their careful preparations for Sam's rescue, Atlantis was unaware of the spy in her midst. In a small, isolated space seldom frequented by other staffers, a lone figure quietly compiled the information that would be sent over secure, coded subspace relay to the enemy. Of course it would be directed through one or two intermediate destinations to confuse anyone who might be watching, but eventually it would make its way to the intended receiver. 

The informant hoped for considerable compensation. So far the payoffs had been worth the effort. The Wraith's debt to their Atlantis spy would be compounded by this latest revelation. The ambitious traitor knew the stakes and the rewards. This would be end game. 

Their gratitude would know no bounds. Or so the informant hoped.

OoOoOo

Oscar received his informant's latest report in a timely fashion. 

For the past few months, this particular human had provided valuable information allowing him to continue his research and gain access to necessary sections of the Ancient database. The informant was an asset, at least for the time being. Oscar would allow the human to retain its freedom for as long as it was useful. This particular Wraith found great satisfaction in manipulating an enemy who was attempting to manipulate him. He would have the last laugh. 

But for now, it was first things first. His experiment was approaching its final stage. Oscar wasn't sure his subject was ready; her Wraith instincts were rudimentary at best. Hesitation and the remnants of certain human emotions stood in her way. But they were forcing his hand. He had little choice.

This rescue attempt could be his perfect opportunity. He would have to wait and see. 

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hi… I'm back with more of the story and anxious to hear what you think of the newest twist.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	20. Chapter 20 Rescue

Chapter 20: Rescue

Within twelve hours of finding Sam's rings, Jack O'Neill was securely strapped into the dart. It was his first time in this particular alien vehicle. He'd wondered about it since the early reports from Atlantis mentioned the sleek fighter jets. Still, he was hardly enjoying the ride.

"I'm not impressed," Jack said to his pilot, the man formerly known at Lt. Aiden Ford.

"Sir?" Denny queried.

"No leg room," Jack clarified, trying lamely to break some of the tension.

Denny snorted. "No, Sir," he agreed, "not much leg room."

"No …: Jack repeated flatly. Though he was doing his best to be pleasant, the experienced Major General was less than overjoyed with being piloted by the AWOL Marine lieutenant. Not to mention, he was worried sick.

Denny was not intimidated by the tough, clearly displeased attitude of his passenger. He knew what lay behind the mask, what bothered his military superior more than anything else. 

"We'll find her, Sir," Denny insisted.

"That we will, Lieutenant," Jack agreed, "that we will."

OoOoOo

Twenty minutes after leaving Atlantis, the commandeered dart exited the orbital Gate nearest Oscar's ship. It had been three days since Denny left on his hunt. Oscar would be hungry.

Docking proceeded without complications. With no weapons or non-Wraith devices in the unshielded compartment, and only the two expected life signs in evidence, the hive was unlikely to detect anything untoward about the approaching dart. Sure enough, permission to come aboard was issued as soon as Denny announced his approach. 

Before their departure, Denny had described the structural set up of the hive to his passenger. His description gave Jack a fairly good idea of their anticipated route to the landing pad. And that was a good thing. While the opaque canopy of the dart had its advantages, it ruled out any direct observation of the hive's interior. Jack had to rely on Denny relaying information from the Wraith readouts on his console. 

Jack would have to choose where to deposit the "cargo". His decision in this regard would go a long way towards determining the success of the rescue attempt. Assuming Oscar and hopefully Sam would be there to meet them, he wanted to beam the strike force in as close to the landing area as possible. With luck, they'd be able to make a run for it right from the landing area. In any case, Jack needed to trust Denny would obey his orders and safely transport his team.

The team now safely stored and shielded in the dart's pattern buffer, included John Sheppard, Ronon, Teal'c, Major Lorne and Cam Mitchell. They were armed to the teeth and ready to do what needed to be done. Posing as a captive, Jack was not allowed a weapon. In fact there were no weapons in the cabin of the dart, as Denny was not allowed any. Typically he would drug and then bind his victims. Anyway, suffice it to say, if the strike team did not successfully rematerialize, _with their weapons_, Jack would be spending quality time with the Wraith. 

As the dart cleared the entrance to the hangar, Jack and Denny began scanning for appropriate debarkation spots. Aided by the dart's computerized sensors, live action maps of the areas they flew over, and Denny's verbal guidance, Jack considered safety of descent as well as distance from the eventual landing area. Finally, the perfect location presented itself. Large enough to ensure safe transport and within one hundred yards of the landing area, this open space was currently unoccupied, with the nearest Wraith life sign over five hundred yards away. And they did have the individual cloaks.

"Here, slow her down, beam them out here," Jack ordered Denny,

"Yes, Sir," Denny replied, slowing the ship to a virtual stop and activating the beam.

Within seconds, the silent transponder worn by John Sheppard sent a brief signal that the team had landed. Equipped with the location of the landing area, they would now adjust their position and await a signal from General O'Neill. Once the signal was given, they would move in.

OoOoOo

A moment later, the dart touched down. Jack had to admit, it was a picture perfect landing. Ford seemed to know his stuff when it came to piloting this contraption. _Now for the really hard part,_ he thought.

"We're down," Denny announced, unbuckling his harness and preparing to make an exit. "Whenever you're ready, Sir," he said. "It looks like our reception committee is waiting."

He was right. Standing no more than ten yards from the landing pad were two Wraith warriors standing to either side of a third figure. The final figure was dressed in a flowing white robe, its face obscured by an oversized hood draped over its head. 

Oscar was nowhere in evidence.

"Welcome back, Denny," the robed figure greeted the lone returnee. The identity of his apparently bound captive remained unknown.

"Colonel," Denny called, easily recognizing the mellow feminine voice. Even as she'd changed over the past few weeks, he'd insisted on addressing Sam Carter by her rank. She did not appreciate the honorific. 

"Please, don't call me that," she said.

"What should we call you?" Jack asked, unable to stay silent.

"Who is that?" Sam replied, her voice hollow. Though she knew the "prisoner's" voice was familiar, she was unable to place it.

"Come and see," Jack suggested.

And she did. 

The hooded figure approached cautiously, leaving the warriors standing where they were. As she moved forward, she lowered the hood of the garment, revealing her face. Jack had all he could do to hold his position as he caught sight of Sam. After nearly two months, much of which time he'd spent believing her dead, he wanted to run to her. He hadn't believed they'd find her so quickly aboard the hive. For the first time in a long time, he was pleasantly surprised.

For her part, Sam hesitated as soon as she was close enough to see him clearly. She knew him… Jack … she knew the man's name was Jack. The one Denny had selected for Oscar. But how could that be? Who was this man to her?

Suddenly forgetting her reason for meeting the dart in the first place, Sam closed the remaining distance between them. With Jack standing completely still, waiting for her to make the next move, Sam began to raise her right hand and arm, the sleeve of her robe falling back ever so slightly.

Jack watched closely, ready to restrain his wife if need be, but refusing to move further away from her just yet. His eyes locked with hers as Sam's hand gently began to caress his cheek. Her hand still in contact with his face, she stared at him wordlessly, tears beginning to fall. 

Unseen, the team was moving into position.

At that moment Jack decided to take action. The "prisoner", a man who wasn't as bound as he looked, grabbed Sam, decisively pulling her to a safe position behind him.

"Now," Jack shouted. As prearranged, the team swung into action.

Denny faithfully fulfilled his role, pulling Sam with him into the dart and activating the canopy. Almost simultaneously, John Sheppard rematerialized fairly close to O'Neill, close enough to toss him a P-90. Needless to say, Jack put the weapon to good use. With Sheppard's help, he managed to rapidly take out two very surprised Wraith warriors. Meanwhile, the balance of the team concentrated their fire on the half dozen reinforcements that had arrived seemingly out of nowhere before the alarm was sounded.

"Go!" Jack yelled into the open com line, effectively giving Denny the order to take off. As the dart began its ascent, the strike force re-engaged their cloaks. Sheppard moved toward Jack, tossing him an extra cloaking device which he immediately activated.

It wasn't a moment too soon. 

Seconds after the cloaks were activated, the next wave of Wraith reinforcements arrived. They found nothing but an airborne dart heading down the approach tunnel. Within seconds, a transport beam swept down and, to the naked eye, engulfed empty space.

Once the strike team was safely aboard and stored for transport, the dart increased speed toward the docking area. It was Denny's show now. The others were nothing more than stored energy patterns. If the escape doors had been sealed, they were in trouble. Sure, Denny had assured O'Neill he could find his way to an alternate exit, but even Denny knew that would be difficult. 

In the end, he needn't have worried. To his amazement, the doors were wide open. There'd been no resistance once they'd taken off. 

It had been too easy.

OoOoOo

From a relatively quiet section of the hive, an interested observer monitored activities on the hanger deck. Control of the deck was in his hands. He'd transferred all executive functions to his private station, ready to adjust to circumstances as they presented themselves. 

The situation wasn't perfect. But his main objective was achieved. His subject was now where he wanted her to be, back with the humans. He'd done his best to prepare her for the task ahead. Still he had his doubts about her ability to perform her assigned duties.

From what he saw and heard today, her memories of the man who greeted her were vague at best. From his informant's description, Oscar realized the man who accompanied Denny was none other than Samantha's husband. Although she didn't attack him, her greeting was tentative, unsure, almost as he had hoped. He was surprised she hadn't provided more resistance when the prisoner and Denny manhandled her into the dart. Then again he intended for her to go. 

All in all, he'd probably been fortunate the "rescue" had taken this long to materialize. It had given him time to purge much of her memory and develop a significant concentration of the serum in her bloodstream. It would be enough; it would have to be. 

Resigned to the vagaries of fate, Oscar sat back and awaited news.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Real life is getting busier. Next chapter will likely be early next week.

Hope you enjoyed this one.

Thanks so much for all of your reviews.


	21. Chapter 21 Alive

Chapter 21: Alive

It was supposed to feel better. Having Sam back, it was supposed to feel better.

This wasn't what he'd had in mind. His wife strapped to an infirmary bed, sedated and prohibited from returning to Earth, it wasn't what he had in mind.

Then again, she was alive. No matter what else happened, she was alive. And where there was life, there was hope, right?

Now Jack sat by her side, waiting for her to wake up, He'd been in this position far too many times over the last twelve years. Sooner or later he knew the woman he loved might not wake up. Heck, less than a week ago, he thought she was dead. Life was fleeting. He'd learned that much in his checkered career.

The precious times they'd spent together had been too few. He wasn't ready for this to be the end. She _had to_ wake up and she _had to_ be Sam. He wouldn't allow it to be any other way. But even Jack O'Neill recognized unreasonable bravado when he saw it. The truth was he had very little control of what was happening. The sooner he realized it the better.

So he sat, going on seven hours now, pretty much anchored to this spot. _I must look rough,_ he thought. He was right. He hadn't shaved in nearly a day and as usual his hair wasn't combed. He'd fallen asleep curled up in the chair for an hour or two; the black tee shirt and old khakis he was wearing looked rumpled and unkempt. He was hardly the picture of a dedicated Major General. Of course, he hardly cared. Sam was all that mattered now.

With little else to do than hold Sam's hand and worry, Jack reflected on the events of the past twenty four hours. So many things were wrong about the way the raid had gone down. He wasn't sure what to think.

For one, it had been too easy. Sure there'd been the requisite number of Wraith to challenge the invaders and sacrifice their lives, but they didn't even try to stop the dart from leaving the hive. And no one came after them. Too easy; they were missing something. They'd _let_ the team escape; there was no doubt of that in Jack's mind. He'd been on too many of these raids in his career to think success could be credited solely to their brilliant planning and execution. Not this time.

_Never happy_, he thought. That was true. Suspicion was second nature to the black ops veteran and he could smell a trap a mile away. Even though he had what he wanted, Sam back with him, he knew their troubles had only begun. There was more going on here than met the eye.

But one thing at a time. Right now he needed to get Sam back to herself.

Denny had sedated Sam as he dragged her into the dart. He must have given her a fairly big dose, too. She was out of it for hours before Keller had to dose her again. While Sam slept, Jennifer had completed her initial examinations and blood work. The Wraith feeding aperture was undoubtedly the most visible source of concern. Otherwise, Sam physically appeared to be Sam. She'd clearly lost a considerable amount of weight, nearly fifteen pounds, but two months in captivity could do that to a person.

She'd started screaming when she woke up that first time and saw Keller standing over her. Her scream was a pitiful high pitched sound that tore right through Jack. He couldn't begin to guess at the torrent of emotion behind that sound. From the bewildered look in her eyes, Jack wondered whether Sam truly understood where she was or what was happening to her. He doubted that she'd recognized Keller.

Fortunately, Jack had been standing in the doorway waiting for Keller to finish her ministrations when Sam started to cry out. He'd quickly made his was to her bedside. As soon as he called her name she'd quieted, but her eyes remained wild with fear. She'd grabbed hold of him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. To everyone's relief, she made no attempt to feed. She was trembling.

"Don't let them hurt me," she whispered.

He didn't know what to make of her words a few hours ago and he didn't know what to think now. All he knew was his superiors refused to let her return to Earth until all questions were answered to their satisfaction. As far as the President was concerned his wife was a security risk. _They're probably right_, he thought reluctantly.

They said she was Wraith, that her captors had made her Wraith. But the woman he'd held in his arms a few hours ago, before Keller sedated her again, was Sam. Frightened, confused, not exactly herself, but she'd been in enemy hands a long while, what did they expect? What did he expect?

Only time would tell. Even now, Jennifer Keller was sequestered in her lab pouring over test results, DNA profiles, PET scans and the like, intent on finding out what exactly had been done to the woman who'd once been commander of this base. Jack had half a mind to harass Keller until she gave him some answers, but since he couldn't be in two places at once he'd decided to stay with Sam.

And so he did. Hour after hour, waving off attempts of trusted friends to relieve him, he sat there and willed her to wake up as the woman he remembered. The medication would be wearing off in an hour or so. He'd know soon enough.

OoOoOo

Back aboard "Oscar's" hive ship …

"She is back with the humans?"

"Yes, my queen," Oscar answered the female Wraith ultimately responsible for the survival of his hive.

"That is as it should be," she answered, her vibrant length of reddish hair contrasting with the deathly pallor of her face.

"They _will_ understand," Oscar said with great determination.

"I hope you are correct," the Queen responded. "This is the opportunity we have been awaiting. Samantha Carter was the perfect subject, but she is not fully Wraith."

"No, she is not. But perhaps it is better this way," Oscar theorized. "She is as we once were."

The Wraith Queen nodded solemnly.

"That is true," she agreed. "Life, as we know it now, cannot continue. There are too many of us."

'The humans will help us," Oscar replied. "They will learn from this and they _will_ help."

OoOoOo

Not far from the infirmary isolation room where Sam remained sedated, Denny occupied his own infirmary cubicle. Tended by one of Keller's assistants, he focused his waning attention on his first visitor, Colonel John Sheppard.

"Colonel, you shouldn't have," Denny quipped, working mightily to ignore the misery of withdrawal even now flooding his body. Despite the most recent dose of the enzyme, the symptoms of detoxification were rapidly progressing. He'd collapsed as soon as he'd left the cockpit of the dart. Coming off the Wraith enzyme was going to be even more difficult than he'd anticipated. With each reduced dosage, he would become more uncomfortable.

"What?" Sheppard said. "Oh, these?" he asked, gesturing to the combat boots he held in his hands. "I was bringing them back to my locker. Thought I'd stop and see how you were doing."

"Thanks for coming."

"Least I can do," John replied. "We wouldn't have gotten Sam back without you." Then after exchanging looks of military appreciation with Ford, he added, "How's it going, the withdrawal thing?"

"I've been better," Denny admitted. "Then again I've been worse, too. The Doc keeps reminding me I only have to go through this once."

"Yep, unless you plan on another close encounter with a Wraith," John said, instantly realizing his statement was less than amusing given their current circumstances.

Denny sensed his discomfort. "Don't worry, Sir," he said. "I don't plan on it. But I've got to admit, I'm gonna miss feeling like I could take on the world."

"Aiden, you were fine as you were," Sheppard said sincerely. "Your skills and your potential, I saw them from the beginning. It was a great loss to the service when you were taken."

"Taken?" Denny said. "That's kind, given what I did to you."

"Yeah, well," Sheppard said, "that's over, if you'll let it be. It's time to have you home, Lieutenant."

Denny nodded. "There's one thing, Sir," he said.

"What's that?"

"Call me Denny?"

Sheppard looked puzzled.

"I'm not that other man you keep talking to, not anymore," Denny said. "Sure, Aiden Ford is a part of me. But like it or not, I've changed."

Sheppard was silent, struggling to process what he was hearing. _That old phrase, 'you can't go home again',_ maybe it was true, he thought.

"Denny it is then," John said.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, in the isolation room …

"Sam?"

Jack moved closer to the bed as Sam fought to regain consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open and she turned her head to take in her surroundings. She seemed calm. That was until she noticed the restraints holding her wrists and ankles strapped to the bed.

Suddenly aware of her lack of freedom, Sam began to struggle, pulling recklessly at her bonds. It was as if Jack wasn't there, she was so focused on getting free. If she kept it up, she was sure to hurt herself.

Simply calling to her did no good. Finally, Jack took hold of her shoulders and looked her directly in the eye.

"Sam! Stop it, you'll hurt yourself," he pleaded.

Sure enough, Sam ceased her frenzied efforts. Gratefully she didn't scream. Instead she simply looked at him, long and hard, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Jack?" she queried.

"That's right," he said. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe."

"You're Jack?"

"Yes, I am," he said. The fact that she was asking the question was eerily reminiscent of Denny's warnings that she'd lost sections of her memory. More precisely, they'd been stolen from her. "Do you remember me?"

She'd stopped struggling. That was something. Sam was still, not straining at her bonds. Instead she stared at Jack, her luminous blue eyes full of questions.

"Not really," she admitted. "You're familiar, but no, I'm not sure who you are."

Jack winced and swallowed hard. This wasn't fair. Still he reminded himself, she seemed to feel safe with him.

"I'm your husband," he said softly. "We've known each other a long time. I love you."

He watched her try to process this.

"He said you hurt me," she said tentatively. "But I know you'd never do that."

"You're right," Jack answered. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

Again more silence as Sam worked to absorb his words. Then, "Am I a Wraith?"

"No," Jack said. "You're not a Wraith."

Sam nodded as best she could in her position. Her confusion was overwhelming.

"Would you let me sit up?" she asked. "It's uncomfortable being tied down like this."

"Sure," Jack said, without much thought. It was Sam after all. As gently as he could he began to release her bonds, first those that held her wrists.

"Better?" Jack asked as he helped her sit up.

"Much, thank you," she answered, her eyes fixed on him.

"Let's get you out of here, Sam," he suggested innocently. "Maybe once you see more of the place everything will start to come back to you."

"Maybe," she agreed. "Sam, is that my name?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, you're Sam, Samantha Carter."

She nodded in return.

A moment later, with her restraints removed, Jack helped her to her feet.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said, fixing her with a look of infinite tenderness. Carefully, he reached up to stroke her face.

She simply stared at him.

"You don't remember anything?"

"He told me you abducted me and experimented on me," she replied. "But I remember none of it."

"Whoever he was, he lied to you."

"And you are telling me the truth?"

"Yes, I am," Jack said, willing her to believe him. His eyes locked with hers said all she'd ever need to hear.

Sam nodded. "I don't believe you've ever hurt me."

The two stood inches from each other. Each seemed to drink in the sight of the other. Despite all that had changed, Sam felt the attraction that had always drawn her to Jack. But she felt something else as well, a feeling born of instinct and nurtured in alien beings for millennia. A hunger, both powerful and fearful, something she'd recently begun to indulge.

It frightened her.

And she loved him, she knew that much. She loved this man.

She could never harm him.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Happy Easter to all!

And Happy Spring as well, even if it is still freezing here!

Please review, I'd love to know what you think of where the story is going.


	22. Chapter 22 Wraith

_**Last time**: The two stood inches from each other. Each seemed to drink in the sight of the other. Despite all that had changed, Sam felt the attraction that had always drawn her to Jack. But she felt something else as well, a feeling born of instinct and nurtured in alien beings for millennia. A hunger, both powerful and fearful, something she'd recently begun to indulge._

_It frightened her._

_And she loved him, she knew that much. She loved this man._

_She could never harm him._

* * *

Chapter 22: Wraith

In the Atlantis infirmary, Jack and Sam continued to stare at each other.

Suddenly, with no warning, Sam backed up. Pulling away as far as she could, she finally hit the wall and stood pressed against it, transfixed.

Jack walked towards her understandably concerned.

"What is it?" he asked.

"No!" she shouted, "Stay where you are. Don't come any closer!"

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"Lock me up," she pleaded. "Now! Surely this place has a room where prisoners are kept."

"We do," Jack said. "But you don't belong there."

"Call your guards. Have them take me there now," she said. "Quickly, before I hurt you. Please!"

"I don't believe you could hurt me," Jack countered.

"I hunger … I must feed … I don't want to hurt you," she insisted, wondering how she could make him understand.

Her still beautiful face was streaked with tears as she pleaded with him to confine her, for both their sakes. _If only he knew_, she thought. _If he knew what I've done, he would hate me._

Finally, when Jack made no move to do as she asked, Sam brandished the palm of her right hand, waving it at him like the weapon it was. And in a voice he barely recognized, she screamed, "Don't you see, I've used this! I've killed for no other reason than to satisfy my hunger! Don't let me do this here! You can't let me do this here!"

Against the will of his heart, the military man reached for his radio and summoned the guards. The husband continued to grieve in silence.

OoOoOo

In a dimly lit and seldom visited grotto of the hive, Oscar began what was, for him, a daily ritual. Alone, separated from prying eyes, he began to read his well worn copy of something he considered sacred text. Known as the Testament, it was a poorly understood, controversial document, its exact content known to few among the Wraith.

The original manuscript had been entrusted to one hive -- a family line of sorts -- for safekeeping millennia ago. There were rumors about it and its authenticity. Those rumors, ultimately legends, had circulated among the various Wraith hives for as long as the document itself had existed. Legend had it the Testament contained the final reflections of the first Wraith Queen. If that were true, it was of enormous value to the entire species. As such, Oscar's hive carried great honor and great responsibility.

Before their recorded history began, combat between hives had occurred for the sole purpose of recovering the Testament. Some factions were certain the ancient text delineated a clear royal blood line which would give one Hive pre-eminence. Of course, each Hive was sure they were the chosen. Despite efforts to unearth the Testament from its hiding place, it had remained hidden, passed down generation to generation through the lineage of the original hive and protected from those who would destroy what did not meet their hopes and desires. The hive-mates privy to the original document did their best to spread the word, to share the tragic, angst-ridden origin of their kind. Generations of suspicion and fear between hives made others reluctant to accept their words. The fact that these guardians of the Testament insisted it contained no statements about royal succession made their listeners scoff at all claims of legitimacy.

Oscar and his hive-mates had worked to make its contents known to rival hives long before the most recent period of hibernation. Even then, his efforts had been less than successful. He was tired. Before the sleep, he'd been on the verge of giving up. Now the humans had woken his kind, he'd found a new resolve, new energy for the mission of his hive. He fed that resolve daily, reading excerpts of the text, calling to mind the tumultuous history of his race. While he read a digitalized copy, he knew the original parchment document was kept safe in pristine conditions somewhere within this same grotto.

It was an incredible document. Even today, reading passages he'd read so many times before, Oscar was taken up with the passion and intensity of feeling behind so many of the Queen's words.

The legend of the Testament was correct. It contained seminal information about the beginnings of the species and their initial struggles. It was indeed the dying declaration of the one who became known as the earliest Wraith Queen.

Her name was Llocha-re. Yes, she had had a name. In those days, his people had names. Tens of thousands of years ago, millennia after the Ancients first seeded life on their home world, they'd had names. That was a time when most of his home planet was populated by humans, not all that different from today's Atlanteans. Llocha-re's sketches made that much clear. The Queen herself appeared human, at least in her own self portrait. Still in light of the entire Testament, Oscar often wondered whether that was fact or fancy.

Llocha-re was nearly one hundred year of age when she ascended to the throne. In her time, there was nothing extraordinary about her age. The Ancients and their progeny had always been long lived, she was no exception. What were exceptional were the evolutionary changes that came to fruition during her reign, changes that had begun long before she was born.

When the ancients first visited what was now the Wraith home planet, they believed it to be a primordial world, devoid of sentient life forms. With that belief, they seeded the building blocks of human life, their life, hoping that the wonders of evolution would lead to the natural development of others of their kind. That hope become reality as the years passed.

The Ancients failed to realize another species was also evolving on that planet, one whose tenacity and proclivity for breeding far outpaced the human species. Although the self awareness of this species, now known to the Wraith as Xeoney, and to the Atlanteans as the Iratus bug, was minimal, it was destined to increase by leaps and bounds.

It would do that by gaining the genetic input of human DNA.

OoOoOo

On the southern pier of Atlantis …

"Have you seen her yet?"

Anita Lattimore looked up from the papers on her desk. She realized her next appointment was due, but as usual Dr. Kavanaugh took her by surprise. He had this obnoxious habit of coming a few minutes early and walking directly into her private quarters.

"David," she said, doing her best to remain calm and professional, "I've explained the reasons you are not allowed in my private quarters. I would appreciate it if you respected my wishes."

"Fine," he said, withdrawing immediately to the adjoining room where she saw patients.

Like it or not, that's what he was, a patient, and a reluctant one at that.

He had been ordered to counseling. It was the only way he would be accepted back for duty in Atlantis after several months leave. Even then, he was shuttled in and out of the city, called back primarily when particular systems needed work. An example of his expertise had been his successful work on the shield mechanics involved in Sam's rescue. Now he hoped Anita would fill him in on the rescued officer's status. Everyone else had been fairly close mouthed when it came to Colonel Carter.

"Have you seen her yet?" Kavanaugh repeated.

"Who, David?" Anita asked irritably. "Who are you talking about?"

"Colonel Carter," he answered, "I'm sure she'll be coming to see you after everything she's been through. After all, she's the one who insisted I come."

Dr. Lattimore closed her eyes, only for a second. She wanted to punch the irritating man. How she was ever going to help him, she had no idea. After all, he listened to no one but himself. She was fairly certain he completed blocked out anything she had to say in their sessions. But he was her patient, and she would do her best.

"Well?"

"David, even if I had seen Colonel Carter, you know I wouldn't discuss her condition with you," Anita said.

David rolled his eyes, frustrated as usual by the refusal of other people to play his games.

"Fine, be that way," he said in exasperation.

"Okay," Anita replied. "It sounds like we're ready to begin our session."

OoOoOo

Back aboard 'Oscar's' hive …

"Are you staying in the grotto all night?"

His queen had joined him in the grotto. Direct descendant of Llocha-re, she did not have a name. His people had dispensed with such niceties generations ago. 'Oscar' respected her as the dedicated leader of the hive. He was gratified to realize she respected his skills as well. In fact, she often availed herself of his advice.

"No," he replied. "I will be leaving shortly. I want to finish this one chapter."

"Read it to me," she said. "It has been some time since I've read my foremother's words."

'Oscar' nodded. "In this passage, she is describing the evolution of the third species."

"Our evolution," the Queen stated simply.

"Yes, the beginning of the Wraith," he confirmed.

"Go ahead," she commanded.

Obediently, Oscar began to read.

_The transformation had started harmlessly enough. The Xeoney began to change. They became more aggressive, attacking us without provocation. Gradually, over many years, their shells thinned and they took on a bipedal method of locomotion. Their attacks on us increased. At the same time, more and more of our people, humans, began to change. At first, it was only those bitten by the Xeoney, as if some sort of venom had infected them. Soon, their descendants showed the same strange physical malformations. They were shunned. Many saw the malformed among us as cursed by all powerful beings. Others simply feared them. _

_Soon, the ones who were different among us became ill. Many were parts of families; as difficult as their afflictions were for themselves and others, they were a part of us, part of the human community. They were dying. Our food no longer nourished them. Those who cared for them despaired. Our scientists worked in vain to find a cure, searching to isolate the fatal mutation._

_Finally, it happened. The defining moment of who and what we have become. While our physicians struggled to ease the suffering of those who were starving before our eyes, some of the afflicted took matters into their own hands. It was about instinct, little more. And their instinct, like that of the human race, compelled them to satiate their hunger. To our horror and to theirs they began to feed on their human brothers and sisters. _

_We were appalled. In their own hearts, the afflicted were appalled. Many took their own lives rather than live with the unthinkable instinct for survival._

_They isolated themselves. We ostracized them, killed them when we could. But before we knew it, we were becoming them. Over the course of the next generation, humans became a smaller proportion of our planets population. The majority of those living on our homeworld were now the afflicted of the humans and the Xeoney. Strangely enough, they'd begun to resemble each other. _

_Stranger yet, by this, the final year of my reign, we have begun to resemble them as well._

'Oscar' stopped his recitation and sat quietly, waiting for his Queen's reaction. Certainly she had heard all of this before; still her reaction was the same every time.

"The afflicted, the Wraith," the Queen stated with certainty, as she always did.

"Yes, the Wraith."

With that, the leaders of the Hive left the grotto, locking the door behind them. That small room now held the original Testament of Llocha-re and part of their hope for the future. The other part of that hope had recently been returned to the city of the Ancients.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm very interested in your reaction to the Wraith backstory (clearly, I've added a bit to canon.) Please review.

Thanks so much for continuing to read!


	23. Chapter 23 Anguish

_In this chapter, we'll pick up where we left Jack and Sam last chapter:_

_Against the will of his heart, the military man reached for his radio and summoned the guards. The husband continued to grieve in silence._

* * *

Chapter 23: Anguish

As it was, Richard Woolsey had stationed a security detail directly outside the infirmary door. So when Jack called, help didn't have far to come. The two young marines entered the room almost immediately. They spotted the subject, Samantha Carter, crouching low against the opposite wall, General O'Neill bending over to face her, but keeping his distance.

The General signaled the marines to approach cautiously. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself he had no idea what his wife was capable of doing in her present state. Seeing her panic and dread, he'd rightly decided containment was the only option.

"Sam," he said gently to the somewhat crazed women next to him, "Sergeant Lang is here to help you."

Sam looked up at the two marines now towering over her. Without warning, the anxiety and fear present seconds ago was replaced with an almost feral rage. She sprang at the sergeant, effectively knocking him off his feet, snarling as she bent down, straddled him and prepared to feed. Fortunately, before she could bring her right hand down to the terrified man's chest, Jack was there. He grabbed her from behind and pulled her off the marine. Unfazed, Sam turned on Jack. Her eyes wild, she moved to attack. Keller arrived not a moment too soon, armed with a syringe loaded with sedative. While Jack gained the upper hand and managed to restrain a screaming Sam, Keller injected the sedative in one smooth motion.

OoOoOo

In the privacy of his own Spartan living space, the Wraith known as Oscar attempted to rest. Sleep escaped him. He couldn't stop thinking of his rogue hive-mate.

The time would come when he and Michael would do battle. It was inevitable. And it was tragic.

They had been born in this hive. Their lives dated from the same beginning. They shared knowledge of the Testament, a treasure they'd been privy to since their earliest years. They'd shared plans and dreams, their hopes for the advancement of their culture. Their thinking was similar, their opinions and beliefs compatible.

That was before Michael was captured by the humans. Over a month long period of time, he'd been given experimental medication which for all intents and purposes made him human. Relieved of the need to feed, he believed he was human.

And then it fell apart. Michael realized his new identity was a lie. He'd been betrayed in the worst possible way. By the time he found his way back to the hive, he was desperate to belong again, confused, angry.

His confusion and anger were complicated emotions. And upon his return, he'd poured them out to Oscar, the one he felt might understand. It wasn't only his human exploiters he raged against. Michael's anger was also directed towards his Wraith brothers and sisters. In that brief window of time when he began to think like a human being, Michael experienced the outrage and horror of those he'd fed upon. Those emotions were all the more shocking once he realized his true identity. Like most all the Wraith, Michael had become inured to his guilt. His brief involuntary journey back to his human roots had been both revealing and disturbing.

With all of this inside him, Michael's return to his birth-hive was not the positive, healing experience it might have been. Rather, it compounded his trauma. Conflicting memories, emotions and ethics clashed like towering titans, intent on wiping each other from existence.

Oscar spent a good deal of time with Michael when he returned. He did his best to help repatriate his friend, help him fit in again. It had been an uphill battle. Though regaining some of his Wraith characteristics, Michael still looked almost human. The change was sufficient to make many of his former hive-mates wary. They shunned him and their rejection fueled his fury.

Little wonder Michael fled the hive and struck out on his own. By the time he did so, two months after his return, he'd resolved to destroy both human and Wraith alike. In place of the two species he considered fatally flawed, he intended to create a hybrid in his own image. Knowing Michael and his dogged determination, Oscar believed he might actually succeed.

But Oscar believed there was a better way.

OoOoOo

Keller agreed Sam needed a more secure setting than the infirmary could provide. Medically, she was as stable as she was likely to be in the foreseeable future. And after her attempted attack on Lang, there seemed no choice but to grant Sam's request for confinement.

So it was that very afternoon Sam found herself in one of the holding cells reserved for high risk enemies of the expedition. It was a fairly standard isolation cell, created by the Ancients to provide a foolproof means of confinement. Furnishings were sparse, nothing more than soft pillows and a mattress on the floor, nothing that could be used as a weapon against herself or anyone else. Horizontal titanium bars surrounded the perimeter of the cell, boundary markers for a force field guaranteed to toss any potential escapee on her backside.

But she wasn't alone; Jack had refused to leave and stood directly outside the force field. He was there when she woke up. At first he'd been silent, simply looking at her, clearly disturbed he couldn't reach out to her.

"I hate having you in there," Jack said after the silence.

"I hate being here," Sam replied, still shaking off the effects of the sedative. "You and I both know there's no choice."

"Maybe, maybe not..." Jack groaned.

Sam shook her head. "How do you figure?"

"Keller and the other eggheads will come up with something," he insisted. "It's taking longer because you're not out there helping them."

"Really?" Sam asked skeptically. "I don't even know who I am. How is anybody going to help me? Better yet, how do you think I could find a way out of this?"

Jack appeared to think about her challenge for a moment. Then he decided to take it on.

"Okay, I'll leave the medical part to Keller, but I can take care of the 'who you are' part. Interested?"

"Fine," Sam said. She was tired, frustrated and scared. "I'm listening." With that she settled into a seated position on two of the large pillows. It was as comfortable as she was likely to get. And she wanted to hear what he had to say. Maybe she'd start to remember.

"Alright," Jack replied. Then, with undeniable pride, he began, "You're Samantha Carter, full bird Colonel, US Air Force. In case you don't know, that's impressive, especially at your age, which is forty-two by the way.

"Your father, Jacob, was an Air Force General, a good friend of mine. He died three years ago. Your mom I never met, she died when you were thirteen. You have one brother, Mark, and he's three years older than you.

"Oh, in addition to being a kick-ass soldier, you are a brilliant scientist, astrophysicist to be exact …"

"What about us?" Sam asked, stopping him in mid-sentence.

"Us?" Jack echoed. "Well that's the best part, at least for me.

"We've known each other about twelve years now. Been married nearly a year," Jack said. "Our anniversary is next week, now I think of it," he added with a smile.

"How did we meet?" Sam asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, the way Jack remembered it in better times.

"Work," he answered. "We worked together for eight years. You were my second-in-command."

Sam nodded. "What kind of work did we do?"

"We did some incredible stuff, Sam. We were part of a team. Do you remember the Stargate?"

"I know what it is, yes," she answered.

"Well, you're Earth's foremost authority on the thing," Jack supplied. "You and I, along with Teal'c and Daniel, we walked through the Gate on a regular basis and explored other worlds."

"We were in love all that time?" Sam asked, clearly more interested in their relationship than anything else.

"Yeah," he said, almost automatically. "I know I was."

Sam smiled. "But we weren't together?"

"No, not like that," Jack answered honestly. "Not for a long time. Lots of rules and other things stood in our way."

She looked at him quizzically.

"Why did you love Samantha Carter?"

Jack looked equally puzzled at her question.

Jack had resolved to answer all of her questions. But before doing so, he felt the need to set something straight.

"Our love's not in the past tense, Sam," he said, looking directly at her. "I love you right now."

She simply watched him, smiling gently, her eyes still questioning… waiting…

Moving as close as he could to the bars, Jack pulled up his chair and sat down. He wanted her to feel the warmth of his love. If he couldn't hold her in his arms, he'd find a way to put it into words.

"I love you for the warm, caring person you are," he said, "the beautiful woman who always makes me catch my breath whenever I see you. You never did realize how incredible you are."

Sam's face became sad and strained. Jack was concerned.

"What did I say? What's wrong?"

"If there ever was such a person, she's gone now," Sam answered without missing a beat.

"No, she's not," he argued. "She's right here on the other side of this damned force field.

Sam shook her head. She took a deep breath and rose to her full height.

"Jack, I need to tell you what I've done and I need you to listen," she insisted.

"Okay," Jack said. "I'll listen to anything you have to say."

Sam proceeded to detail her memories of how she'd assaulted at least three human victims in the past few weeks. The episodes were clearly etched in her mind, replaying whenever she closed her eyes. Those repulsive memories and the guilt that accompanied them were as strong in her mind as her memories of Jack's love.

For better or worse, that guilt and her feelings for Jack were the only things she was certain of right now. Her sanity hinged on his acceptance. Still, she needed to know whether Jack would stand by her once he'd heard the worst.

As much as Jack wanted to stand by his wife, he was shocked by her revelations. It was one thing to know Sam had been changed in some way, lost her memory, even behaved as a Wraith. But hearing the ghastly specifics from her own lips was something else altogether. His Sam would never do these things. Perhaps this woman was right. What if she wasn't his Sam, merely a macabre copy of some sort, like that damned Replicator.

He needed to prepare himself for that possibility.

Sam could see the doubt in his eyes.

* * *

TBC

A/N: And the angst goes on. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

As a point of clarification about the Wraith backstory: Everyone has their story, even the bad guys, even the very bad guys. That's not intended as an excuse, but as a step towards understanding (not agreeing with) behavior and thinking that is, at times, reprehensible.

I'm hoping that during the course of this story, the difference will become clear. It's a fine line I deal with every day at work.

More soon…


	24. Chapter 24 Sam

Last time: _Sam could see the doubt in his eyes._

* * *

Chapter 24: Sam

Alone in her cell, Sam reflected.

_He hasn't come today._

_The ones called Teal'c and Daniel, they came. But Jack, he hasn't been here today._

_Colonel Sheppard and Teyla visited as well, but not Jack._

_Dr. Keller was here, only a few moments ago. While armed guards stood by, she checked my vital signs and administered some sort of treatment. She looked worried._

_But still Jack hasn't come. _

_I thought as much._

_I'm not the woman he knew, certainly not the amazing scientist/soldier he remembers so clearly. Part of me is Wraith, and the rest, well I can't remember much of anything about the rest._

_No, that isn't exactly true … I remember Jack …at least I remember a reflection of my feelings for him. How safe I feel when he is around, how I'd rather die myself than hurt him, I feel that…deep within myself. _

_The only other human feelings screaming in my head even now are shame and guilt. I tried so hard not to harm those people. Yet I did, some part of me did. And I would have hurt Jack yesterday if Keller hadn't drugged me. How could I do those things? What kind of monster am I?_

_I don't know. People do seem to care about me here. Maybe Jack was right, maybe there was something good about me. Or maybe they've all been lying, like Oscar said they did._

_I'm so confused._

_I've spent most of the day pacing around this cell. They finally brought me some reading material they thought Samantha Carter would enjoy. I suppose it helped relieve the boredom a bit. But I'm restless … and hungry._

_They've fed me standard fare since I've been here, but I'm starving. I know Keller gave me supplemental nourishment today. I even overheard her discussing the possibility of a more permanent arrangement if I continue to lose weight._

_I'm much more concerned with losing other things._

_OoOoOo_

While Sam languished in the solitary holding cell, wondering about herself and worrying about Jack, her husband was doing his best to keep his mind off everything of importance.

Fortunately, his friends had other ideas.

"Jack?"

A morose General Jack O'Neill looked up from the conference table where he was busily shuffling papers to find his good friends awaiting his attention

"Daniel, Teal'c," he called. "Thought you guys were leaving today." In fact Cam Mitchell had been called back to the SGC immediately after Sam had been rescued from the hive. It had been a surprise Daniel and Teal'c were able to stay as long as they had.

"We are," Daniel said. "Seems Landry's not willing to let me hang out here anymore. He says I'm needed on SG11, some sort of important alien artifact."

"I regret that I too have been called away," Teal'c added. "The central leadership of the Jaffa is awaiting my counsel on matters of internal security."

"Busy guys," Jack quipped, doing his best to keep things light. "So, to what do I owe this visit?"

Daniel shrugged, taking a seat opposite Jack.

"We're friends," he suggested.

Jack snorted, closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

"Yes, we are," he said. "I'm sorry."

"We know, Jack," Daniel replied. "We're concerned about you, about Sam."

"We would like to be of assistance, O'Neill," Teal'c chimed in.

"I think you've both done all you could. You helped me bring her home," Jack said flatly. "Can't ask more than that now, can I?"

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

Daniel stared at him; he wasn't in the mood for the avoidance game they often played.

"I know you're worried," he said.

"Worried?" Jack repeated. "Ah… so that's the word I've been looking for all day." His voice was tinged with vintage sarcasm.

Daniel shook his head. Uninvited, he pulled his chair closer to his friend. Jack continued his rant.

"My wife's been turned into a life-sucking monster … yeah, I'm worried…" Jack yelled.

Finally, it was Teal'c's turn to take Jack's less than helpful attitude in hand.

"I do not believe Samantha Carter could ever be a "monster", regardless of something done to her against her will," the Jaffa intoned solemnly.

With that Jack got to his feet to face the larger man.

"What do you call it, when someone feeds off other human beings?" Jack raged. "Sam would never do those things! How does anyone expect me to believe that's my wife in that cell?"

"Sit down, Jack," Daniel said. His voice carried a rare, ominous tone.

"What?" Jack asked nonplussed.

"Sit down, O'Neill," Teal'c echoed. "We have more to say and you _will _listen."

As usual, Teal'c's tone brooked no argument, even from his good friend.

Standing directly in front of his now seated comrade, Teal'c began.

"I believe you and I have both done things we regret in our careers," he said. "Is that not the case, O'Neill?"

"You know it is," Jack replied. "So?"

Teal'c glared. "So," he nodded, "did those actions make us 'monsters'?"

Jack was silent, staring at the alien man who knew him so well.

Daniel jumped in, not waiting for Jack's response.

"I think what Teal'c's trying to say is, did those actions make you not Jack O'Neill?"

"I was carrying out orders, for crying out loud, Daniel," Jack spat.

"And Sam …?"

"She …she…"

"Do you rely think she had anymore choice than you did?"

"She was brainwashed, drugged, altered, O'Neill," Teal'c added. "In fact she had no control."

Jack hung his head, breathed deeply then looked up. His face was ashen. These two had done what they usually did, forcing him to look at things from another perspective. In the process, they'd stripped away the anger and outrage that hid his more tender feelings. He knew they were right. He'd known all along. But denying the reality had killed the pain, just a bit.

_Damn them to hell,_ he thought.

"I don't think I can stand to lose her again," Jack admitted softly.

"Then don't lose her, Jack," Daniel replied.

"Maybe she's already gone," he persisted.

"Only if you allow her to go," Teal'c supplied.

OoOoOo

In her office, Jennifer Keller completed her secondary reports on Colonel Carter's condition. Though she had some ideas with regard to treatment, she had to admit it would be an uphill battle. She wasn't certain she would be successful, but she had to try to restore the woman they'd known as the leader of Atlantis.

Soon she'd make her way to the conference room where she'd brief General O'Neill on his wife's status and plans for treatment. She wished she had better news.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your continued attention to this story!! It's so motivating and helps me keep writing!!

Also some of you have offered some good ideas for future chapters in your reviews. As you can tell I've used one or two in this chapter! Thanks.


	25. Chapter 25 Treatment

_In her office, Jennifer Keller completed her secondary reports on Colonel Carter's condition. Though she had some ideas with regard to treatment, she had to admit it would be an uphill battle. She wasn't certain she would be successful, but she had to try to restore the woman they'd known as the leader of Atlantis._

_Soon she'd make her way to the conference room where she'd brief General O'Neill on his wife's status and plans for treatment. She wished she had better news._

* * *

Chapter 25: Treatment

A serious, less than confident Jennifer Keller arrived at the conference room shortly after Teal'c and Daniel had taken their leave. She was accompanied by Anita Lattimore.

Jennifer had asked the psychologist to join her for two reasons. First of all, it was clear any recovery process for the Colonel would include a significant period of emotional rehabilitation. Secondly, she hoped Dr. Lattimore would be able to offer her some insight into the General's reactions. Jennifer was no psychologist; still she knew this was far from easy for the man. Accustomed as he was to being in total control of every situation, he was doubtless struggling with a mix of problematic emotions. Surely something was going on; he hadn't been to see her patient in over twenty-four hours. It didn't take a therapist to know Colonel Carter would need her husband's support if she had any chance of being whole again.

"General," Jennifer greeted him as she entered the room.

"Doctor Keller," Jack acknowledged. After his recent re-introduction to reality courtesy of Daniel and Teal'c, he wasn't certain how much more he could take. His defenses were down.

"This is Anita Lattimore, our resident counselor," Jennifer introduced. "I've asked her to consult on Colonel Carter's case."

Jack nodded. Sam would need all the help she could get. God knows he hadn't been much help so far. But after the guys and their little talking to, he'd decided that would change.

"How's she doing, Doc?"

Jennifer took a deep breath. She wasn't looking forward to this exposition.

"As you know, General, this is a very difficult situation. Colonel Carter's physiology has been changed in such a way that she is unable to adequately metabolize the normal dietary nutrients. I've provided supplemental feedings for her, but the result has not been what I'd hoped. She is continuing to lose weight slowly. Her body is weakening."

"You're saying she needs to feed," Jack stated bluntly. "How long?"

"Honestly, I'm not certain how long a Wraith can go without feeding," Keller answered. "We've seen them survive nearly three weeks in captivity. With the Colonel's blended physiology, I'm not certain how those statistics will apply."

"I see," he said. "So what do we do?"

Keller wished she had more certitude to offer the man. As it was, she was grasping at straws, trying to decipher Carson Beckett's research and trusting in her own abilities.

"At this point, Sir, I'll be doing my best to offer intravenous nutrients to sustain her as long as possible. In the meantime, I'm working on a way to reverse the changes the Wraith made to her DNA."

"Is that possible?"

"I have the work of Dr. Beckett to reference," she said. As Jennifer spoke, she wished the man himself were available to her. She knew she needed help and Beckett's research was invaluable to her current work. "He'd done a great deal of research on the Iratus genetic codes. As you know he'd developed a retrovirus which wiped Wraith characteristics and left only the human genetic traits behind. I'm hoping some variant of the retrovirus might be helpful here."

"Okay," Jack said, wondering about, but not wanting to know, the likelihood of success. "How long?"

"How long what, Sir?" Jennifer asked.

"How long till she's herself?"

Jennifer looked at Anita, then back at General O'Neill. It was a question neither of them could answer.

Anita decided it was time she shared her perspective on the situation, taking some of the pressure off Dr. Keller.

"If I may, General," Anita began, "your wife's recovery will depend as much on her mental and emotional readjustment as her physical progression. We need to help her regain her memories and deal with the emotional repercussions of what has happened."

Jack winced and nodded.

"If I'm hearing right, we need to fight this on two fronts," he observed. Jack knew the medical duo had smoothly shifted the focus of the discussion, but he had no desire to focus on the uncertainty of Dr. Keller's research.

"Exactly," Keller agreed. She was understandably relieved the general wasn't pushing her to define timetables for her research. Truth be told, she had no idea how long it would take or if she could do it.

"I don't see how Sam can regain much of her memory sitting in that holding cell," Jack said, continuing to focus on what he hoped he could change.

"I have to agree with you," Lattimore replied. "An isolation cell is hardly a place to conduct therapy, let alone encourage a patient to recall memories that have been stripped away from her. It's time to get her out of there."

"What about security?" Jack asked.

"Actually, Dr. McKay has an idea or two in that regard," Jennifer said. "He's hoping to make a presentation of his ideas this evening. With any luck, we can have Sam out of the cell and back in her old quarters by the morning."

"That sounds good," Jack replied, enthusiasm sorely lacking. He knew it was only the beginning.

"If I may ask," Anita said, appearing reluctant to ask the question, "I couldn't help but notice your friends have left Atlantis. How much longer will you be able to stay, General?"

Jack looked at Anita sharply. He couldn't miss the subtext of her question. She was really asking whether her patient could count on his support during the days, weeks, even months ahead. He couldn't blame her for asking, especially after his recent reactions.

"I've taken an indefinite leave," Jack replied. "Family emergency, you know. I'm here as long as Sam needs me."

Anita smiled gently. "That's good. She'll need your support more than anything. You're the only one she seems to remember in any meaningful fashion."

Jack nodded, breathed deeply and replied somberly. "I hope I can help. That's all really, I want her to come back to us."

"That's what we all want, Sir."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, outside the high security area where Sam was being detained …

"You sure you want to do this McKay?"

Rodney was nervous enough. He didn't need Ronon or anyone else second guessing him on what he was about to do. It would either work, or it wouldn't, but he had to give it a fair shot. Sam deserved that much from him. Not to mention, his newest invention was a stroke of genius if he did say so himself.

Shortly after Sam's return and the realization she was now a serious security risk, the leading scientific mind of Atlantis had set to work on a quick fix. He knew it was only a stop gap measure, but genetic engineering wasn't really his specialty. He'd have to leave that to Keller and her people.

Working with Zelenka and Kavanaugh, he'd come up with an answer, something he believed would greatly decrease the security risk and hopefully allow his former commander and friend to escape her current confinement. The idea was simple enough, straightforward, didn't take a rocket scientist. It was the implementation of that idea which was challenging.

A glove, no more than a glove, was all it would take to make his friend's life a bit easier in the short term. Sure, it wouldn't cure anything, but correctly engineered, it would prevent her from feeding and make it possible for her to leave that damned cell. The more he'd talked with Keller, the more certain he was that his little invention was a good idea.

What took time was fashioning it from the correct materials to make it impermeable, then finding a way to insure the wearer could not remove it. In the past seventy-two hours he'd accomplished both objectives. It worked in the lab. The McKay glove seemed as impermeable as the iris of the Earth Stargate. And Zelenka, who fortunately had small hands, had been unable to remove it, despite his best efforts. Rodney had finally unlocked the device from his computer.

The glove had been specially molded for Sam's hand, so it would be a perfect fit, or so he hoped. The only way to find out would be to do what he was about to do, slip it on her hand.

It felt more than a little strange to approach Sam Carter flanked by two armed guards and Ronon. Since when did he need protection from a friend, let alone a friend he'd been infatuated with for years? But it was Atlantis after all, he'd come to expect the unexpected.

And a good thing that was. Seems even today's plan was not to go off as scripted.

"McKay, hold up," a new voice called. "Show me what to do."

Rodney spun on his heels not quite sure who was calling him. General O'Neill, well that stood to reason. _Ready to be her hero again_, he thought.

"Uh … I'm happy to do it, Sir," McKay babbled.

"I know you are, Rodney, and I appreciate it," Jack said quietly, restraining his impulse to berate the man. "I think it's more likely she'll accept it from me."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Please review. Thanks for reading.


	26. Chapter 26 Intrigue

A/N: Finally for those of you who have had enough angst, there will be a _tiny_ bit of fluff towards the end of this chapter. Watch closely, it's over soon! See if you can catch it.

* * *

Chapter 26: Intrigue

Aboard the hive ship, Oscar poured over incoming long range communications. He'd thought he was alone in the quiet of his dark, isolated sanctuary. So he was surprised to hear the voice of his queen.

"What are you doing?" The leader of the Hive inquired.

"I am examining the latest information from Atlantis," Oscar replied

"Excellent," the Queen remarked. "Is it from the observer?"

"Yes, it is," Oscar said. "I had almost given up on the transmission recurring. It is quite informative, but most sensitive to atmospheric interference. I will need to make some adjustments before we use this particular transceiver again."

"Yes, yes," the Queen said impatiently, "as always you have found something to be improved. However, all I want to know is the status of your current experiment. Does your transmission indicate any progress?"

Oscar flashed what could only be described as a Wraith smile, a self-satisfied one at that.

"Quite a bit of progress, I'd say," Oscar replied. "The return of our subject appears to have had the desired effect on the Atlanteans. From the interactions I've witnessed here, it appears several of their more prominent figures have focused their attention on finding answers to her plight. They are quite concerned. As is her husband."

"Husband?"

"Yes," Oscar replied. "The word implies the equivalent of consort in our culture."

"I know what the term implies," she said with growing impatience. "Who exactly is this husband?"

"As we had hoped he is a man of great influence on the Atlanteans' home world. He is the one who accompanied the human, Denny, on their 'raid'. I believe he would be willing to exchange his life for hers, so deep are his feelings. It is exactly as we had planned."

_How could he know the man's feelings for the subject? _The Queen wondered. _Surely the transmission from his spy could not register and communicate feelings? Or could it?_

Yet if any of her subjects could make this work it was him, her chief consort, the one who had stood by her for as long as she could remember.

"That's it!" Oscar exclaimed in a rare burst of human like enthusiasm.

The queen looked at him expectantly. _This must be extraordinary_, she thought.

"I've found the way to sharpen the transmission from our observer. I've programmed a select group of trigger words, names, phrases which will activate transmission. We'll get less data, but it will be more specific and focused."

"It is a shame she has not been turned," the Queen observed. "She could provide more information if she were our agent."

"Not necessarily," Oscar countered. "The data provided by our observer is untainted, raw. She has no idea she is transmitting, therefore she cannot alter it in any way."

"Perhaps you are correct," the Queen admitted, realizing he most often was.

"After all, that's why we have the other in place," Oscar said. "He will do our bidding. Greed is a great motivator for the humans."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, Jack proceeded to enter Sam's confinement cell.

"Hi," he greeted her simply.

Sam turned towards the familiar voice.

"Hello," she said. "I wasn't sure you'd come back."

"Yeah," he answered sheepishly. "About that … I owe you an apology. Your husband can be a real jerk sometimes."

Sam stood silently, keeping her distance. Ignoring his words for the moment, Sam looked past Jack toward the entrance of the cell where two guards stood at the ready.

"You didn't bring them in with you," she stated as fact.

"No, I don't need them," Jack said with certainty. "You won't hurt me."

"I wish I could be as sure," she said wistfully.

"We can arrange that," Jack said. "I come bearing gifts."

Without further ado, Jack produced the McKay Glove. Most of it a flexible mesh, the palm side was opaque, lined with an impermeable, relatively light weight material, surprisingly stronger than steel.

"This will keep us all safe for awhile," Jack replied in answer to his wife's questioning eyes. "McKay's idea. Try it on?"

As always, Jack thought, Sam was way smarter than him. She didn't need to ask questions, she got it without explanation. Holding out her right hand, she meekly allowed her husband to slip the perfectly fitted glove onto the offending appendage. Before she could ask what would keep her from removing the safety item, they both heard a reassuring click as the lock engaged.

Sam looked at her hand, now encased in a snug covering that might keep her from harming anyone else. With any luck, this flexible, lightweight glove would dependably contain the unspeakable evil she felt inside her. That would be a good thing, at least as good as it got for now.

And Jack was here. That was definitely good.

OoOoOo

Alone in her chamber, having bid goodnight to her consort, the Wraith Queen took time to come to terms with her own thoughts.

It had been an incredible journey.

She'd been responsible for this Hive for as long as she could remember. Her chief consort had been with her nearly as long. Together they'd fought for the welfare of those under their protection. Theirs had been the preeminent hive for thousands of years, the leading force other hives turned to when their own fortunes looked bleak. For a long time, the Queen believed their exalted position was the result of their access to the Testament. However, as she aged, she rightly realized not all Wraith were enamored of the story it told.

Many of her kind would rather forget their origins. These were the ones who wanted to suppress Llocha-re's Testament. They had no desire to be reminded of their human origins, let alone the fact they shared ancestry with what they believed to be lowly insects. As far as they were concerned, the Wraith had sprung up fully formed in their current splendor.

Although others protested her controversial approach to the humans, she realized it was from their lack of understanding. They mistakenly thought her actions indicated a desire to be human. That couldn't have been further from the truth.

Like most of her people, the Queen was proud to be Wraith, most of the time. Her culture was a thing of beauty to her. The physical features of her people were extraordinarily attractive to her eyes. Their loyalty to their hives, their ability to survive debilitating circumstances, to the point of choosing hibernation over the death of the weakest of their kind, those traits were sources of pride for this queen. Hers were a strong and resilient people.

And yet, they'd lost much of what had graced the lives of their distant ancestors. Music, art, science for the sake of exploration, those luxuries had been dispensed of in the light of dwindling food supplies. It hadn't always been this way. Llocha-re had born testament to a different kind of life.

It was for her and her hive to be certain the Wraith never forgot what had once been their legacy.

OoOoOo

With the glove securely in place, Sam had been cleared to take up residence in her former quarters. Fortunately, no one had occupied them since her disappearance and many of her personal items had simply been left in storage. When Jack arrived to lead the rescue, he'd returned some of the personal mementoes he'd taken back to Earth with him. Now they waited to welcome her back.

The suite had been modified to accommodate current security concerns. There were cameras installed to watch Sam's every move and of course the requisite force field outside her door. Unfortunately, everyone, including Sam, agreed the precautions were necessary, glove or no glove.

Jack walked Sam to her quarters. They were closely shadowed every step of the way by two guards armed with Wraith stunners. As they walked, Sam asked a question about the one person on Atlantis she truly remembered.

"How's Denny?" Sam asked. "No one's really told me much of anything, but I sensed he was pretty sick by the time we got back."

"Yeah," Jack said. "He's going through withdrawal from a Wraith enzyme he's been taking for a couple years. From what Keller tells me, it's tough. But he's turned a corner. Doc says things are looking up for him."

"I'm glad," Sam said. "I'm grateful he helped bring me back."

Jack caught sight of her as they walked side by side. She was grateful to be back. That was something. And now, after his brief report on Ford's status, he and Sam had reached their destination. Two more guards, probably those who would remain near the door, greeted them. Before they knew it, they were inside, alone.

The door was closed, but the cameras were rolling. Jack wasn't sure he liked that one bit. Still it was much better than the holding cell.

He'd hoped to gradually reintroduce Sam to her living quarters, easing her into memories of her past and present, but that wasn't to be.

Instead of waiting for Jack's guidance, Sam's eyes roamed to the pictures expertly positioned around her bedroom, most likely by Keller and Lattimore. She focused on the cozy shot of fishing on the dock behind the cabin. Jack couldn't help but notice how her attention was thoroughly captivated by that precious scene.

"Nice shot, isn't it," he said.

"It is," she agreed. "Where was it taken?"

"Minnesota, our cabin in Minnesota," he answered.

Sam smiled dreamily, walking closer to the picture. She picked it up off the table where it was placed and held it up with one hand. With the other she carefully traced the outlines of the two people in the photo.

"Land of sky blue waters …" she murmured just loud enough for Jack to hear

"Loofas …" he answered quietly.

"Yeahsureyabetcha …" she stumble through one of his favorite phrases.

"You're remembering," he stated as a fact.

When she turned towards him she was smiling; it was a gleeful smile of childlike delight.

"Yes," she said. "A little, I'm remembering a little."

"C'mere …" Jack invited, opening his arms.

And she did, instinctively finding her way to him and standing there willingly as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Jack," she whispered.

"Shh… it's okay," he soothed. Jack stroked her back and held her snuggly. "You're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you," he said, realizing he'd been waiting to say that for months now.

"You won't leave me, no matter what I've done?" she asked, raising her head slightly to meet his eyes.

He deserved her doubt.

"Sam, I've been a fool," Jack said. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last. But I'm going to be here for you as long as you want me. "Understand?"

Sam nodded, her "yes" no more than a whimper as she lowered her head to his shoulder.

With no more encouragement, she began to weep. Hot fearful tears, tears of relief, tears of regret, she wept. She sobbed them to Jack's heart, held securely by the man who loved her. She remembered so little, but she knew he loved her. She felt it, deep inside her being, more than remembered it. For now that would have to be enough.

* * *

TBC

A/N: I wanted to post one more chapter before the weekend ended. Mission accomplished!

Readership seems to have dropped off a bit, (wow, I'm insecure) so I hope I'm not overstaying my welcome with this story. There is still much to tell; I'm hoping it is still interesting.

Feel free to offer any constructive feedback about improvements for the story. As always, I love to hear from you.


	27. Chapter 27 Memory

"_Sam, I've been a fool," Jack said. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last. But I'm going to be here for you as long as you want me. "Understand?"_

_Sam nodded, her "yes" no more than a whimper as she lowered her head to his shoulder._

_With no more encouragement, she began to weep. Hot fearful tears, tears of relief, tears of regret, she wept. She sobbed them to Jack's heart, held securely by the man who loved her. She remembered so little, but she knew he loved her. She felt it, deep inside her being, more than remembered it. For now that would have to be enough._

* * *

Chapter 27: Memory.

The next day, Operation Memory began. At least that's what Jack called it.

According to Dr. Keller, Sam's PET scan showed no organic reason why her long term memory could not be restored. In other words, the memories hadn't been erased; the retrieval system was simply blocked. With that information in hand, Jack, the never say die poster child for resilience, decided to take things into his own hands.

Since Sam was no longer confined to the holding cell, Jack made it his business to arrange a tour of Atlantis in hopes of stimulating more of her memories. Of course, they'd have company on their little jaunt; he'd reluctantly agreed with Woolsey's insistence that armed guards accompany them, just in case. Still, Jack was certain seeing familiar people and places would help. If nothing else, it would give him an opportunity for a thorough review of the city, especially the new sections brought on line since his last official visit.

First stop on the tour was Woolsey's office. Jack was surprised how hard it was to call it that. For him, it would always be Sam's office. He was hoping she would see it that way as well. Sure she'd only occupied it for a year, but she'd loved the assignment. It was bound to jog some recollections.

Right now, approaching Woolsey's office was jogging something alright, his eardrums. As they stood in the doorway, Jack could hear Woolsey administering a dressing down to some poor soul who happened to show up late for a meeting. To his surprise, the man on the receiving end was none other than John Sheppard.

"How good of you to join us, Colonel," Woolsey said. Apparently he and the chief of security had been waiting for Sheppard nearly fifteen minutes.

"Sorry," John replied, a little confused, glancing at his watch. "I was helping with the last jumper landing. A main circuit blew in the docking bay. Rodney asked for my assistance and I lost track of time."

"See that it doesn't happen again," Woolsey said, refusing to give the dedicated, less than by-the-book military officer a break.

"I'll do my best," Sheppard replied, 'doing his best' to keep insolence out of his voice.

_Next_ _time the Wraith attack, I hope they schedule it with him in advance,"_ Sheppard thought wryly.

At that moment, Jack loudly cleared his throat, announcing the presence of unexpected visitors at Woolsey's still open door.

"General O'Neill," Woolsey greeted. "Colonel Carter. It's good to see you … up and around," he said, clearly uncomfortable but unable to refuse O'Neill's visit.

"We won't keep you, Richard," Jack said, purposely using the man's first name. "This is our first stop on our Atlantis tour, the commander's office."

Sam remained silent, taking in the scene before her. She'd been here before; she knew that much. The room was familiar as were the people. But one, Richard Woolsey, seemed strangely out of place. She couldn't help but stare at the man; four weeks after his arrival, he was still a fish out of water.

Though she made no aggressive movement towards Woolsey, the bureaucrat turned off- world leader backed up noticeably. Jack decided they'd overstayed their welcome. He'd have a few words with Woolsey later, but now wasn't the time.

"Okay then," Jack said. "We'll leave you gentleman to that fascinating meeting I'm sure you can't wait to begin. We're off to see the Stargate."

Sam nodded to John Sheppard and looked pleasantly at Woolsey and the security chief. Sheppard was doing his best to stifle a laugh at Woolsey's discomfiture. If Jack weren't so annoyed with the man, he'd be laughing as well. Sam, well Sam was dismayed that the man in charge of Atlantis was obviously frightened of her.

As the O'Neills and their guards left the office, Jack looked at Sam and took her hand in his.

"Anything?" He whispered.

"Mr. Woolsey's scared of me," she said. "And he doesn't belong in that office, does he?"

"You can say that again, Sam," Jack replied.

OoOoOo

Oscar had barely slept last night. He'd been too excited. Yesterday's transmissions from the observer were invaluable. His plot was working. Though he'd much prefer to see for himself, long range information would have to suffice. The time for direct observation would come. For now, he reminded himself this particular observer had unknowingly provided useful, accurate information over the past several months. The flow of information had been limited only by interruptions in transmission. Now that issue had been corrected, he would once again have a bird's eye view of happenings in Atlantis. What's more, Samantha Carter would soon be in regular contact with the very same observer. It was a perfectly planned situation.

He had to admit, he was very invested in the success of this operation. As a scientist, he'd been working on this project since the new Atlanteans awoke his kind over four years ago now. As a Wraith, he'd debated the questionable ethics of his species for a much longer period of time. That debate made his project even more important.

"Oscar" was a leader in his own right. As the main consort of his Queen, he played a prominent role in the society of his hive. At the same time, he was a creature whose softer, more sensitive nature was deeply disturbed by the violent, animalistic urges which plagued his species. He'd been fascinated by Llocha-re's Testament for as long as he could remember. He identified with Llocha-re's reflections, her horror over the ways her people satisfied their hungers. In her writings Llocha-re repeatedly said her people were becoming their own worst enemies. Oscar had felt that horror too. And he'd felt bitter disappointment as the different Wraith factions turned against each other, even now.

According to Oscar's reading of the Testament, Llocha-re had lived long enough to see the final evolution of her people. She had mourned the death of the rich, vibrant, positive culture she'd known as a young woman. In the end, she participated in the near cannibalistic behavior that was so morally repugnant to her. Her initial foray into the Wraith feeding experience was traumatizing. Like many others at the beginning, she'd attacked one of those closest to her, a family member. Once the feeding was complete and she realized what she'd done, she wept bitterly. In his youth, "Oscar" had wept in much the same way.

From what he read in the final chapters of the Testament, Llocha-re's revulsion at the experience of feeding decreased over time. So it had for all of her people. Again this was a familiar progression for Oscar, and as far as he knew for others of his kind. With time, repugnance faded, replaced by a feeling of great power and exhilaration. As distasteful as it was initially, feeding became addictive even among the newly evolved Wraith. Feeding on those who remained human became accepted, a part of what it meant to be Wraith, psychologically and physiologically. So much so that today, few Wraith gave it a second thought.

Oscar dearly hope that would change, and soon. The survival of his species depended on it.

OoOoOo

In the Atlantis gateroom ...

"You have to rotate it counterclockwise," Rodney said. He could feel his patience wearing thin. _Where did they get these new technicians?_ He wondered. _Do they really expect me to train these idiots?_ After years of emotional growth, Rodney McKay had finally learned to keep these thoughts to himself. Wisdom taught him his gripping was seldom appreciated.

"No, not that way," he said as the novice technician nearly misaligned the rotator mechanism of the Stargate. "You have to align the circuits in parallel or you will rupture the space time continuum the next time we activate the capacitors."

Resolved to give the young man one more try to do it correctly before jumping in to do it himself, Rodney breathed a sigh of relief as everything seemed to fall into place. Maybe there was hope after all.

"McKay," Jack called as he and Sam approached Rodney from behind. Standing behind the control panels, Sam now had a direct view of the Atlantis Stargate. She stood there transfixed, her eyes caressing the artifact that had become so much a part of her life.

Rodney turned toward the couple. Ignoring Jack completely, he stepped forward to welcome Sam enthusiastically. He seemed ready to hug her before he remembered Jack was standing right next to her.

"Sam! It's great to see you up here," Rodney said, pulling back suddenly and tucking his hands in his pockets. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad," Sam answered, knowing there were some things most people didn't need to know. "Jack thought touring the base would help me regain some of my memories."

"Is it working?" Rodney asked hopefully.

"A bit," she answered softly.

"Good," McKay said. "We need you back here. Truth is," he said, sotto voice, "I need another scientist who knows what he … she's … doing."

Sam smiled. Something about the man certainly was familiar. And seeing him in the shadow of the Stargate seemed right as rain.

After walking through the remainder of the control room area, Jack ushered Sam and their guards to the transporter. From there they'd make their way to their next stop, the infirmary.

But first, Jack had to know.

"You remember McKay?"

"He's familiar, in a creepy sort of way," she said.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "I think he's got a thing for you. I've wanted to punch him out on more than one occasion."

Sam giggled, for the first time in weeks. It was a welcome sound.

"But since he came up with the glove …" Jack continued, "I think I'll cut him a break."

"That's good, I suppose," Sam said. "He sounds pretty smart. The technical language was familiar."

"We call that techno-babble, Carter," Jack said with a smile.

Sam turned and looked at him quizzically. "You used to call me that all the time, didn't you?"

TBC

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this up. Work and other things got busier than usual. Alas, sleep was necessary. What's more, as the story unfolds, I find myself going back to earlier chapters to be sure everything is coherent and plot holes are kept to a minimum. The more twists, the more difficult that is! I did it to myself.

Thank you all so much for all of your supportive feedback after the last chapter. It looks like readers are still interested in this Jack and Sam adventure as well as some of the side stories. I'll do my best to develop the remainder of the story in a way that does credit to the build up.


	28. Chapter 28 Informants

A/N: Last chapter was a little light on the angst … so …

* * *

Chapter 28: Informants

All too soon Jack and Sam arrived at the infirmary. The impromptu tour had been fun, the first fun Jack O'Neill remembered in a long while. Even Sam had complained when he'd announced the final stop on the tour; Jack had commented she was sounding more like him all the time.

As much as they both dreaded the return to reality heralded by the infirmary visit, they were grateful when they finally arrived. Sam was looking tired, had actually slumped against him once or twice during the final leg of the journey. Jack hoped medical could fix her up.

He knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

Sure enough, Keller was waiting for them. Jack couldn't miss the concerned look on her face as she took in Sam's paleness and the slowness of her movement. Then there was the fact that she was leaning rather heavily on Jack, to keep from losing her balance.

"Glad you're here," Jennifer said directly to Sam. "Have a seat and we'll start our exam"

"She's not looking so good, Doc," Jack said, hesitantly stating the obvious.

"I know," Keller said gently, "I have a nutrient solution ready that I hope will help."

_Well that's not the most convincing bedside manner I've ever heard_, Jack thought.

"Thanks," Sam said on a shaky breath, doing her best to sound positive. She took a seat with more than a little assistance from Jack.

"I'm afraid we pushed it a little … the walking that is," Jack said. "But she's remembering."

"Really?" Keller asked. "That's great."

"Bits and pieces is all, I'm afraid," Sam said. "I'm not sure how it all connects."

"That's a start," Jennifer replied with a warm smile. "It tells us you're coming back."

Jack had to admit, that's all he really wanted.

OoOoOo

Keller had insisted Jack take a break while she conducted Sam's physical examination. Since Sam didn't seem to object, Jack agreed to wander until he was allowed back by Sam's side. It didn't take long for his meanderings to lead him to Keller's other star patient, one Aiden Ford, now better known as Denny.

The man seemed preoccupied to say the least.

It was the first time in a long while Denny actually felt human. He had a long way to go, but it was progress. Maybe he could go back; he wasn't sure, but maybe it was possible after all. Here he was back among his own kind. And the walls hadn't fallen in, the world hadn't ended. They even seemed to accept him. As he mused on how life had suddenly changed, Jack's approach broke him out of his reverie.

"Hey, Lt. Ford," Jack greeted him. "How's it going?"

Denny turned his head to catch a glimpse of the superior officer who'd unexpectedly become a visitor.

"General, Sir," he snapped, surprising himself as he reverted to military mode. "I'm good, thank you."

"You looked a million miles away," Jack reflected, standing by the side of the younger man's bed.

"Yeah," Denny admitted. "I was thinking about the last time I was in a bed like this. Doc Beckett was here. I miss him. It's strange being here without him. Hell, its strange being here at all."

"Yeah, I bet it is," Jack said. "Keller says you're through the worst of it though."

"I think she's right," Denny said, sounding fairly surprised. "She's got me down to a very low dose of the enzyme. One more dose tomorrow and she says I'm home free."

"No more leaping tall buildings in a single bound?" Jack quipped.

"Guess not, Sir," Denny admitted. "Then again, they say my personality is improving a lot."

Jack suppressed a chuckle. Seems the kid had a sense of humor.

"Sir, can I ask a question?" Denny asked.

"Sure, go ahead," Jack replied. "What do you want to know?" This fellow had made it possible to find Sam; Jack would do whatever he could for him.

"I was wondering, have you figured out how they knew we were coming?"

"What … how who knew we were coming?" Jack parroted.

"I've had nothing to do but sit here and think the past few days," Denny clarified. "The Wraith must have known we were coming. They were waiting for us."

"Seemed that way, didn't it?" Jack admitted. "But it was too easy in the end. Like they let us go."

"Exactly."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," Jack said, "I'm thinking Sheppard's working that angle with security as we speak. It's obvious we've sprung a leak. They'll find it."

"It's not just that," Denny persisted. "I heard about Colonel Carter from the Wraith long before she was captured. They had some fairly specific information about her and about your Alpha site. I don't think the leak just started."

Jack looked at him blankly. He was, after all, an expert at hiding what he was thinking.

"I hadn't heard that before," Jack said calmly. "When did they start getting this intel?"

"Remember, I wasn't exactly in the inner circle, Sir," Denny said, "but about seven or eight months ago. I'd overhear bits and pieces from the guards."

"Thanks, I'll let the others know," Jack said. "It might help their investigation, narrow the possibilities."

Jack lapsed into silence, unsure of how much to trust this newly repatriated soldier.

"Why do think they let us go, Sir?" Denny finally asked.

"Don't know," Jack said, "but I'd like to know. I can't shake the feeling they've got more planned for Sam."

Denny shared Jack's concern. It was suspicious; there was a reason they'd allowed them a relatively easy escape.

"How is Sam?" Denny asked. "I was hoping she was with you."

"She was till our friendly Doc Keller got a hold of her," Jack said, doing his best to be jovial. "Seems she needed another scan, tests, medicine, you name it she's getting it."

"You're worried," Denny observed.

"Yeah," Jack admitted. "She's not doing so well today, at least physically."

"She needs to feed," Denny correctly assumed.

"That's probably it," Jack said softly. "Have to admit, I don't want to think about it."

Denny nodded. "The Doc will figure something out," he said with forced confidence. "If she doesn't, McKay will. I think he likes the Colonel."

"Okay … Denny," Jack said, "now we're talking about my two least favorite subjects – the Wraith and McKay liking my wife." Jack resolved to change the subject and did so deftly. "By the way, why are we calling you Denny, Lieutenant?"

"More than a year living among the Wraith, I guess," he answered. "Hey, I stopped being Aiden Ford a long time ago."

"But why Denny?" Jack persisted.

"Like I told Sheppard, it's a name I used as a kid," he answered. "Besides, I needed a name. The Wraith don't have any; didn't want to be any more like them than I had to be."

Jack had time to kill; he knew Keller didn't want him back for at least another twenty minutes. Besides he'd always wanted to know.

"What is it with them not having names?" Jack asked.

Denny smiled a quirky smile. "Well, it's a story alright, probably one of the saddest about the Wraith if you ask me," he said. "They used to have names. On the hive I was in they talked about their early queens by name. Apparently they stopped naming just before the first large scale hibernation. One of the queens outlawed personal designations, seems they got in the way."

"In the way?"

"Yeah," Denny answered. "Seems it was harder to feed on someone who had a name. Made them more real, more like them. Weird, but from what they told me, not naming their children made all their losses easier to deal with, at least from their perspective."

"That's just wrong on so many levels," Jack said.

OoOoOo

Sitting at his computer terminal, a brilliant but frustrated man completed yet another assigned task for the day. He was so tired of following someone else's orders Here he was in one of the most exciting assignments in the history of the human race and he was expected to follow orders. None of them understood he was beyond that. _I should be the one giving the orders,_ he thought. _Someday I will be. Thanks to the Wraith, someday I will be._

TBC

* * *

A/N: The rest of this weekend will be taken up with yard work, I'm afraid. Good news is, spring is here. Bad news is, the winter doesn't clean up after itself very well.

New chapter next week, probably a couple, before I go on vacation!! Yay!

Once more, thanks for reading. Your comments are much appreciated. Please press the little button to review.


	29. Chapter 29 Investigations

Chapter 29: Investigations

He'd made a game of it. Communicating with the Wraith over random, inaccessible channels, sabotaging the efforts of his rivals, it had been fun. But even he was ready to collect on the debt. It was enough. He wanted to take his payoff and go home.

They'd promised to trade him technical secrets for his information. With the specifications of some of the more exciting Wraith technology, he intended to finally make his mark. He could backwards engineer their culling beam and things like it. He'd take credit for the inventions and he'd make his fortune.

More important than the money, was the recognition. He'd always craved it. Having people know of his brilliance, how extraordinary he was, that had always been of prime importance in his life. And if he could deflate the egos of some of the pretentious pretenders around here, especially that little twit McKay, it was all the better.

And so he set out to send his last communiqué to Oscar, his handler of sorts. He had no idea how well he had been "handled". His payoff would be a surprise for everyone.

OoOoOo

The attempt to cure Sam Carter was not going well. In fact, a cure was so far out of reach right now, it was all Keller could do to focus on simply keeping her patient alive. She'd never watched a patient starve in front of her eyes before, not when she was doing everything she could to restore them to health. It was unthinkable.

At the moment, the frustrated physician stood at the bedside of her patient. Sam Carter appeared to be sleeping peacefully, exhausted after her most recent set of scans and tests. The results of those tests would occupy Jennifer Keller's mind for the rest of the afternoon. There had to be something, a clue, an idea of what she could do for her commander and her friend.

Sam's husband had come to check on their progress two or three times. On each occasion, Keller had politely told him to go away and leave them to their work. He'd complied, but she could tell he wasn't happy about it, not by a long shot. General O'Neill was a man of action and he loved his wife. Keller knew sitting by and doing nothing was killing him.

As for Sam, she knew very well what was happening to her. On the positive side, she was gradually starting to recall bits and pieces of her life, memories of important people and events. Though things were still disjointed and jumbled at times, it was an encouraging indication that whatever had blocked her memory circuits was beginning to dissipate. Keller wished she could say the same for the Wraith feeding instinct her patient had been saddled with as well.

She'd been altered. There was no way around that fact. Tests had shown minute changes in one of Sam's genetic markers when she first returned. Most likely this had accounted for the development of the feeding aperture as well as the aggressive instincts she'd manifested when she'd first returned.

Like the Wraith she'd examined before, Keller realized Sam Carter now garnered only minimal nourishment from ingested foodstuffs. Her metabolism had been restructured to feed off the nutrients provided by an infusion of human life energy. Unfortunately, Keller was no way to provide such an infusion without significantly damage the donor.

Since her rescue, Sam's slowly returning sense of self had collided with her instinct to feed on other humans. Keller could only imagine the horror of Sam's inner conflict. True to her human character, she'd sublimated her instinctive need as best she could, reconciling herself to the fact that the failure to feed might eventually lead to her death. When she'd put on McKay's glove, things became easier. She'd told Keller she no longer needed to expend huge amounts of energy to dampen the feeding instinct. Having the glove in place seemed to do that for her. Now, Sam was left with the ever increasing weakness and insatiable hunger. And of course, the fear she wouldn't survive.

General O'Neill had come to Dr. Keller with a disturbing proposition a few moments ago. He suggested that Sam be allowed to feed on him. Keller recoiled from the suggestion. It was a visceral response. She couldn't imagine sanctioning something like that for any reason. O'Neill had been insistent, as only a two star general could be. He'd said it was his right, his right to offer himself for his wife. That kind of love always made Jennifer Keller envious. Still there was no way she would allow this to happen on her watch. Besides, Sam would never go along with it.

Still she was certain she'd not heard the end of the General's proposal. He'd seemed undeterred by her negative reaction. In fact, as he left, reminding her he'd be back again for Sam, he'd told her he was on the way to Mr. Woolsey's office. She could only guess he'd look for someone to override her decision.

OoOoOo

"You want to what?" Richard Woolsey asked. He was sure this was the worst idea he'd ever heard.

"You heard me," Jack O'Neill replied. "Sam needs to be fed. I'm not about to watch my wife starve to death. Whatever it takes, I'm not about to let that happen."

"From what Dr. Keller tells me, we're not there yet," Woolsey said, holding on to Jennifer's estimate that a Wraith could survive nearly three weeks without feeding.

"But we will be," Jack said. _And probably sooner than later_, he thought, realizing Sam's constitution was not that of the typical Wraith. "So, will you talk with Keller?"

"I will not," Woolsey said. "Nothing that barbaric is going to happen here on my watch."

"I'm sorry, what gives you the right to make that choice?"

"In case you forget, General, I am in command of this station," Woolsey said emphatically.

Before Jack could offer one of his more undiplomatic responses, he was saved from himself by a most unlikely rescuer.

"Excuse me," called the unexpected cavalry. "I couldn't help but overhear your rather heated 'discussion'," said a particularly sheepish Rodney McKay.

"What are you doing here, McKay," Jack asked. "Can't you see we're in the middle of something?"

"So I heard," Rodney replied. "General O'Neill, you may want to fire me, beat me up, I don't know, but I have to say something."

"Fine, spit it out," Jack said, "then get the hell out of here."

Rodney swallowed hard. He'd grown a backbone over the years, but this man still intimidated him. After all, Jack O'Neill could probably break his neck without trying. And then, he was Sam's husband, a sad state of affairs if you asked McKay. Be that as it may, Rodney still cared about Sam and needed to make his opinion known.

"I know you're not asking me, General," he began, "but just listen to what I have to say. Sure you can force Mr. Woolsey to give in, but do you really want to do that? What would that do to Sam? Maybe she'll live a little longer, but do you really think she could live with herself if she hurt you? See, I don't, not the Sam Carter I know."

Rodney took another deep breath to help himself calm down. "There, that's all I have to say. I'll be leaving now. You two," he said, gesturing with his hands as he backed out of Woolsey's office, "keep arguing, have fun."

Jack smirked as he watched McKay's retreating form. The irritating man was right. As willing as he was to sacrifice himself for Sam, doing so would cause her endless pain in the long run.

Somehow, arguing his point didn't seem so attractive anymore.

OoOoOo

"Well, when will you have something?" John Sheppard asked. Clearly at the end of his rope, he wanted some results. There was a traitor in their midst, someone passing classified information to the enemy. The thought of a spy incensed him, but the fact his information had resulted in Colonel Carter's current condition and the destruction of the Alpha site, well that added insult to injury. When he found that sorry excuse for a human being, he planned to make him sorry he'd ever been born.

Then again, it was more than likely he'd have to stand in line for that pleasure. Doubtless, General O'Neill would claim first dibs on perpetrating significant physical injury on the man who'd set up his wife. When Sheppard stopped to think it through rationally, it would probably be up to him to keep the older man from doing something that could derail his career. And it certainly wouldn't help Sam.

The report Sheppard just received from Security Chief Donovan was discouraging. Though Donovan and his people had uncovered several initially clandestine transmissions, they'd been completely unable to track any of them from Atlantis to a Wraith vessel. However, as the mission logs were reviewed for the past twelve months, an unexplained pattern of Wraith activity correlated with the timing of these transmissions. Wraith had seemed to materialize at their mission sites, much as they had when Teyla unknowingly carried the Ancient transmitter. This was most obvious in activities involving Colonel Carter or the development of Alpha site. There were clues leading in several different directions, a dozen possible suspects in total, crew members whose activities were not clearly accounted for during the times of those missions. A few were long time members of the expedition, like McKay, others had been in and out of Atlantis like Kavanaugh and Donovan himself. Still others were relatively new, Dr. Lattimore and Jennifer Keller to name two.

The next few days promised to be interesting. John had always wanted to be a small town sheriff, better yet, an FBI agent, at least in his dreams. Now was his chance.

OoOoOo

It was 2200 hours. Jack had waited long enough. He wanted to walk Sam back to her quarters. It stood to reason she'd be more comfortable there than spending the night in the infirmary.

As he entered Keller's domain for the umpteenth time today, he was gratified to see Sam sitting up and sipping on a protein shake Keller had concocted.

"Hey doc, you think I can spring Sam anytime soon?" Jack asked.

Sam smiled in spite of herself. She had to admit she was feeling a bit stronger after the intravenous infusions Jennifer had provided today. She'd also received a blood transfusion. She was as ready to get out of here as she'd ever be.

"What do you think, Jennifer?" Sam seconded.

"I suppose," Keller relented. "There really isn't much more I can do for you here that a little more sleep won't accomplish."

"Okay, Sam, what do you say we get out of here before she changes her mind?" Jack suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," she answered. With that, the couple was out the infirmary door before Jennifer Keller could reconsider. She shook her head. It would still be a long night for her. She'd find an answer to her friend's dilemma, or fall asleep trying. Had to admit, the later was a lot more likely at this point.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm pretty proud of myself. I got a chapter up before the weekend ended. Too sore from raking leaves, pruning bushes and starting the lawn to do anymore outdoor work today, so writing came naturally.

Hope you liked the chapter. I was trying to cover a lot of bases, so hope it wasn't too disjointed.

More will be revealed soon.

Thanks for reading and for taking the time to review. I value your input.


	30. Chapter 30 Steps

"_Sounds like a plan," she answered. With that, the couple was out the infirmary door before Jennifer Keller could reconsider. She shook her head. It would still be a long night for her. She'd find an answer to her friend's dilemma, or fall asleep trying. Had to admit, the later was a lot more likely at this point._

* * *

Chapter 30: Steps

Sam and Jack were back at her quarters within ten minutes of leaving the infirmary. Sam looked better, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize she was still suffering silently.

"I'm sorry you're having such a bad time," Jack said. "I wish there was something I could do."

"I know you do," Sam said. "And I appreciate it…"

"And?"

"And …I do want you to do one thing for me, Jack."

"Anything," he said. "Just tell me."

"Don't ever think it again."

"Think? What?" Jack asked, genuinely confused.

"Jennifer told me what you want to do," Sam said.

"Oh," he replied, "that." Jack looked at her hard. He had no doubt what she was talking about. _Didn't that Keller ever hear of doctor/husband confidentiality?_ O'Neill wondered.

"I want you to survive this," he said. "I'd do anything to make that happen."

"I know you would," she said, coming to stand directly in front of him. "But not that, promise me you will never mention it again."

Silently, Jack O'Neill looked into the bottomless blue eyes staring directly at him. He loved her so much. Her face was strained, pale, fatigued. He didn't want her to suffer anymore. He'd do anything to prevent it. The only problem was she wouldn't let him.

"Promise, please," Sam persisted.

"I love you, Sam," he countered.

"I know that," she assured him. "It's obvious, even to a woman with a poor memory."

"Good, I'm glad," Jackf said. "Then you understand why I want to do this."

"Yes," Sam said. "And you understand why I could never let you."

Jack stood silently, watching Sam, feeling the sincerity of her words.

"There's so much I still can't remember," she said. "I won't pretend to remember everything you and I have done together, what we've meant to each other over the years.

All I know is how safe I feel when I'm around you. Even though this place is strange to me, I know its home because you're here. I'm at home when you're with me, Jack. I have to think that's love."

Jack nodded. He was glad she felt safe with him.

"It would kill me to hurt you, Jack," Sam continued. "Promise, you'll never speak of it again."

"Fine, I promise," he said reluctantly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Without saying another word, Sam took his hand and moved toward the bedroom.

"Come on," she said.

"Where are we going?"

"To bed, silly," she said. "It's almost midnight. Don't know about you but I'm tired."

"Sam … I … you don't even really remember us," he said. The last thing Jack wanted was to push her into some sort of relationship she wasn't ready to own. "Listen, I'll sleep out here," he said, gesturing to the sofa.

Sam stopped her forward movement and turned back to face him.

"Please don't do that," she said. "I want you with me tonight. I need you."

Of course, right now, Jack would refuse her nothing. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to be close to her, to hold her, to ease her fears. If he could cure her he would, no matter what it cost him. For right now, he'd settle for this.

Soon the two were nestled close together in Sam's queen sized bed. Both were fully clothed. Sam hadn't had the energy to change her clothes. Jack had slipped her shoes off once she lay down. Then he did the same, lying on his side and pulling her towards him. Now, Sam was wrapped tightly in his arms. She couldn't remember feeling so loved. Still she'd been married to this man nearly a year, so she must have been. She realized how fortunate she was. _Someday, I'll remember_, she told herself.

OoOoOo

In the early hours of the morning, Jennifer Keller was unexpectedly roused from her slumber. Not surprising, considering how she'd fallen asleep at her desk, her head unceremoniously lying atop a stack of research notes.

As luck would have it, the unscheduled patient was one of her least favorites – Dr. David Kavanaugh. Besides being an arrogant narcissist, David was a whiner. Hangnails were medical emergencies to this man. This was so not the way she wanted to wake up.

"David," Jennifer greeted him, trying her best to sound professional in her half-awake state. "I must have fallen asleep. What can I do for you?"

David held out his right hand, currently wrapped in a bloody towel. "I had an accident in the lab."

"Some accident," she said. "Come on, we'll have a look."

David took a seat. He slowly removed the towel, revealing a nasty gash across the palm of his hand.

"You really did a number on yourself," Jennifer observed, getting ready to flush the wound and stitch him up. "What were you working on?"

"Neutron energy emissions," David replied. "It's cool. Real potential for energy to rival that produced by the ZPM"

"Never heard of it," Jennifer said, doing her best to stay awake and keep the conversation going as she deftly stitched his hand.

"It's one of my favorite theories," David replied. "I'm working on a prototype generator; that's where my hand came in."

"So, neutron energy…?"

"It's kind of like human stem cells. A source of energy that can be transformed to meet whatever specific need exists."

"That _is_ impressive," Jennifer said sincerely.

"Well it will be if I can get it to work," David countered, grimacing as Keller took her first tentative stitches.

"Stem cells," she said, clearly taken by the idea and how it might apply to her current problem. "Tell me more."

OoOoOo

Anita had anticipated this appointment for the past week.

Over a relatively short period of time, Samantha Carter had become well respected among the members of the Atlantis expedition, Anita included. She saw the opportunity to help with the emotional aspect of the Colonel's recovery as a professional privilege.

It was a shame Anita's recurrent headaches had chosen this week to make a surprise return visit. After nearly two months of inactivity, she'd been treated to day after day of nearly intractable head pain the past few days. Each time it happened, the pain was more severe. Visits to Dr. Keller had proved frustrating at best; no etiology could be found. Idiopathic, Keller had labeled them. _All in my head, in other words_, Anita thought. _Great! Just what I need._

Jennifer Keller had encouraged her friend to take a few days off, rest, relax, but the dedicated, ambitious therapist would hear none of it. She had the opportunity to help a challenging patient and she wouldn't miss it for the world.

Now the time to begin their work together had arrived. Sam was finally stable enough physically to begin the emotional part of her recovery.

"Colonel Carter," Dr. Lattimore greeted her as Sam appeared at her door, "I'm so glad you're here. Please come in and have a seat."

Hesitantly, Sam entered Lattimore's office. She looked around the room, getting a sense of her surroundings. Silently she took a seat, waiting for Lattimore to do the same. She wasn't sure what to expect.

Anita proceeded to introduce herself, tell Sam a bit about her background. It was unlikely Colonel Carter retained any memory of the clinical psychologist assigned to Atlantis. As Lattimore spoke, she was acutely aware of her patient's intense, skeptical gaze. Undoubtedly, Samantha Carter wondered what Anita Lattimore could possibly do to help her. Anita had to admit, she wondered the same thing.

Finally, it was time to encourage Sam to talk about herself.

"How are you today, Colonel Carter," Anita began tentatively.

Sam couldn't see any point in not cooperating with this woman.

"Physically, not very well," she said. "But Dr. Keller's working on that."

"I know," Anita responded. "And emotionally?"

Sam's eyes welled up, but the tears refused to fall. She swiped at her eyes impatiently.

Anita waited a few seconds. She knew it was a tender balance between too much silence and not enough. When Sam made no attempt to respond verbally, Anita decided to state the obvious.

"Typically, when a new patient comes in I ask how I can help them, what they hope to get out of therapy. I know this isn't a typical situation, but maybe we can start there."

Sam smiled ironically. "I'll bet it's not a situation you see very frequently," she quipped sharply. "Losing your memory and becoming what amounts to a vampire, not your run of the mill patient, am I? To be honest, I've never heard of that happening before, have you?"

"No, I haven't," Anita admitted, "unless it's in a science fiction story. Then again, they say 'Truth is …"

"Stranger than fiction," they both said, completing the phrase together.

"You can say that again," Sam responded. Her voice and demeanor had lightened just a tad.

Anita paused and smiled.

"So, how can I help you, Colonel?"

"First of all, call me Sam," she said. "I might not exactly know who I am, but Sam's easier to identify with than Colonel."

"Sam it is," Anita replied.

Sam took a deep breath, leaned forward in her chair and looked Anita in the eye for the first time since she'd arrived.

"I don't know where to begin," she said honestly.

And so they began.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hope you're still enjoying the story. Thanks for reading.


	31. Chapter 31 Suspicion

Chapter 31: Suspicion

Aboard Oscar's hive, great anticipation reigned. The leadership council had met early that morning. After their customary reading of the Testament, they'd offered their blessings to the Queen's chief consort. Today, he would fulfill his destiny. With any luck, he would begin a new chapter in the history of the Wraith. Together with his Queen, the one he called Beloved in the secret of his heart, he would lead believers into a new era.

In this new era Oscar envisioned, the Wraith would no longer be tied to the vagaries of their unreliable food supply. Once more they would easily thrive on the foodstuffs they cultivated with their own hands, working the ground, learning the moods of nature. More importantly for Oscar, his people would be freed from the need to savage other self aware, intelligent life forms to preserve their own existence. Perhaps in time they could begin to live in peace with the humans, that Ancient race from whom they evolved.

Oscar knew many of his kind did not believe as he did. Many, as in the time of Llocha-re had come to revel in the power that feeding gave them, power and control over others. But within many of the hives there were those who believed in the words of the Testament, Llocha-re's vision of a revitalized civilization that would live in peace for the remainder of their days.

Today Oscar prepared to welcome representatives of those other hives. On his vessel, those who supported his plan would gather to plot the next steps in their careful dance with the humans. It would be their responsibility to bring the others around to their way of thinking. Oscar had no idea whether or not it could be done. He did know it was the only way for him and his hive. The time would soon be upon them. Samantha and her people were nearly ready.

OoOoO

In the silent darkness of space, three Wraith cruisers approached the waiting hive ship. These vessels brought delegates from the other hives. In the past they may have been colleagues, brothers even, but now, with a limited food supply, they were little more than competitors. Those who'd volunteered to participate in this unprecedented meeting shared with Oscar's hive a profound respect for the words of the Testament, the dream spoken of by Llocha-re and her record of how things used to be.

Now the Hive of the Testament, as it was often called by its rivals, had made a startling suggestion. Perhaps it was possible to do away with their dependence on humans for food, while retaining nearly all other aspects of Wraith physiology and culture. When Oscar had initially made the proposal, the others had balked. All they could think of was the horror of what had been done to the one they called Michael, how his entire identity had been stripped from him. That was an abomination. They were not about to stand by for a repeat performance. Despite Oscar's reassurances, each delegate brought with him an attitude of healthy suspicion.

On board one of the cruisers waiting to dock with the hive was a Queen every bit as proud and determined as Oscar's Beloved. This female had been furious when so rudely awakened nearly five years ago now. Standing at nearly six feet in height, she was a formidable warrior and inspiring leader to those who followed her. Unlike many Wraith queens, this one's long flowing hair was snow white and her face unadorned. Her lack of facial adornment signaled she was in mourning.

This hive's queen had lost several of her spawn to raids by rival hives over the past few weeks. The shortage of food had grown acute in her corner of the galaxy. More than her grief over the losses sustained by her hive, the shame she felt at her own recent actions haunted her. In a moment of intense hunger and rage, she'd fed on and killed her consort. She'd regretted her actions before, but this was beyond the pale.

Now she must put these trying feelings behind her. She needed every bit of her strength and sound judgment to safeguard those under her protection. To enter another queen's hive was a very uncommon occurrence. To do so voluntarily was nearly unheard of in her generation. But here she was. She would have to be careful and so would her people.

"Come, all of you," she summoned the five members of her delegation. "I must speak with you before we enter the Hive of the Testament. You will listen and obey my words. For the safety and security of our hive, you will follow what I say."

The Queen of the second hive had no doubt similar instructions were being given aboard the other cruisers. Surely she was not the only one to distrust their soon to be hosts.

"Within the next few moments we will be boarding the Testament Hive," she said, speaking the last three words on a low growl. "I am aware of the legend of Llocha-re's words and the awe with which some of you hold them. We must be wary of that reverence.

"Remember, given the scarcity of food, our brother Wraith cannot be trusted. Despite the fact we have fought by their sides in the past, against the very humans they now suggest we befriend, they would wipe us out if it would mean more food for their hive. Do not forget that.

"Listen to what they have to say with that in mind," she snarled, gesturing menacingly with her feeding hand. The queen's long painted nails cut a violent swath through the stagnant air as she continued to speak. "If their proposals seem fit and beneficial to our hive, we will retire to consider them. If not, we must end this détente in any way we can."

The Queen was gratified by the immediate roar of assent from the small group assembled before her. She had their support. If this went bad, she would need it.

OoOoOo

On Atlantis …

"We've got something," John Sheppard announced as he entered the main conference room.

"About our leak?" Woolsey asked. Each day, the intelligence agent turned expedition leader grew increasingly nervous about the idea of a traitor on the base.

"Yeah," Sheppard responded. "We'll be talking with our chief suspect this afternoon. It will be a shame to lose her."

"Her?"

"Dr. Lattimore, we've traced transmissions to her," Sheppard reported.

"Why?" Woolsey asked. He, like many others, was reluctant to believe the woman who'd been helpful to so many, including himself, would do such a thing. "Why would she betray this expedition?"

"Can't answer that, Mr. Woolsey," Sheppard said. "But I'm damn well going to find out."

"I want to be there when she's interrogated," Woolsey said.

"Fine," Sheppard said, "but we do this my way."

John left Woolsey's office without further discussion. The appointed leader of Atlantis followed him at a distance, knowing the interrogation would occur without further delay. And he did want to be there. From what he knew of Anita Lattimore, he couldn't imagine her being a willing agent of the Wraith. And whatever else he was or wasn't when it came to leadership abilities, Woolsey knew he read people well. If she'd been deceiving him, he would have smelled it, and chased the deception to the end of the earth. If he was right, Dr. Lattimore had no idea she'd been tapped as the spy and no idea of what was facing her right now.

It took a full ten minutes for Sheppard, the security chief and Woolsey to make their way to Anita's office. Woolsey was correct; the woman had no idea she'd been under surveillance. As Sheppard and Donovan entered the unsuspecting psychologist's office, weapons drawn, Richard Woolsey witnessed her complete shock and amazement.

"What is this?" Anita demanded.

"Dr. Lattimore," Chief Donovan announced, "we need you to come with us for questioning."

"What is this about?" Anita persisted.

"We have reason to believe you have been communicating with the Wraith," Sheppard supplied.

"You must be kidding," she said, blown away at the suggestion that she would do such a thing.

"I'm sorry, Anita," Woolsey offered. "They're not. Please come with us. We'll try to get this cleared up as soon as we can."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Well, I'm leaving for a cruise this weekend. My niece is getting married. She is such a wonderful girl. I'm very happy for her!

No more posting for at least a week. But I will likely be spending a little time writing while laying in the sun at one time or another. Can't wait!

Hope to have two or three more chapters up soon after I return.

Thanks for reading.


	32. Chapter 32 Time

A/N: I'm back from my niece's cruise/wedding. It was beautiful of course! And everything went off without a hitch. I'm very grateful.

Seems like I've been away from this story a long time and I know you have been too. So before beginning Chapter 32, here is a brief recap. (Those of you with better memories than me, feel free to skip ahead.)

**The Story Thus Far: **

_Colonel Samantha Carter and a team from Atlantis journeyed to the newly completed Alpha Site for the highly touted dedication. Little did they know one or more spies in their midst had compromised the position of that site and led their Wraith enemies to them. _

_When it became clear the site was not defendable, Carter ordered the self destruct and stayed behind to see the site did not fall into enemy hands. When the device went off, everyone initially believed she had died in the blast. _

_When the news reached Earth, her husband, Jack O'Neill grieved, along with her friends and colleagues. However, after the initial shock, Jack refused to believe she was really gone. He persisted in his stubborn refusal to give up on her. Eventually, it was discovered she had been removed from the site by a single Wraith who'd had his eye on her for quite some time. In fact, the entire situation had been orchestrated as much to capture Carter as to destroy the Alpha site. _

_Sam was kept prisoner aboard a hive ship run by "Oscar" and his queen. Also aboard that ship was Denny, once Lt. Aiden Ford. Denny decided to help Sam escape after learning of the experiments Oscar was conducting on her. _

_As the result of an all too easy rescue raid, led by Denny and General O'Neill, Carter was returned to Atlantis after a nearly two month absence. While she was gone and presumed dead, Richard Woolsey replaced her as leader of the Atlantis expedition. To everyone's dismay, Carter had suffered significant memory loss and sustained physical changes which left her with a Wraith feeding aperture and the need to feed on human energy to sustain herself. _

_As the story continues, Keller, McKay and other scientists are scrambling to find a way to cure Carter before it's too late. Others like the psychologist, Dr. Lattimore, and Jack O'Neill are doing what they can to aid in her psychological recovery._

_Meanwhile, the story of the Wraith, their history and motivations, unfolds. And the hunt for the informants goes on._

_**Now the rest of the story…**_

* * *

Chapter 32: Time

Time was running out.

Keller knew it. Sam couldn't go on this way. What's more, though General O'Neill was glad to see his wife slowly regaining her memories, even he knew it would be for naught unless the expedition's medical expert found a way to reverse Sam's physical changes.

Initially, Jennifer had considered using Beckett's retrovirus. However, since the only Wraith characteristic Sam carried was the need to feed, doing so would be counterproductive. It would be the equivalent of going after the common cold with a barrage of cancer drugs. Most likely it would cause more harm than good, particularly in light of her most recent discoveries.

To Keller's surprise, the most recent tests she'd run on Sam showed genetic changes were not the cause of Sam's inability to digest normal foodstuffs. The actual etiology of that particular problem lay in another area. It seems the cells lining her digestive tract that been disabled. Normally these cells boasted semi-permeable membranes allowing for the passage of nutrients from the gut into the bloodstream. The advance studies just completed, including a fairly invasive biopsy, demonstrated that Sam's cells no longer possessed that ability. This was the cause of her relative starvation. If these cells could be replaced with normally functioning cells, the immediate threat could be averted. Reversing the genetic alterations that led to the development of a feeding aperture, well, that could wait.

As undifferentiated building blocks, human stem cells could form the basis of a cure for Sam. Kavanaugh's unwitting comments the other night had been all it took to trigger Jennifer's imagination in this area. That night, she'd reached out to two of her professional contacts on Earth, men who'd devoted their recent scientific careers to stem cell research. Those consultations had offered background information at best; the information was helpful, but the techniques currently used on Earth would require too much time to be of help to Sam.

Then it hit her.

Although stem cell research was in its relative infancy on earth, she did have access to the Ancient database. It had been awhile since she'd consulted that treasure trove of knowledge. After all, most of what was contained there was light years beyond her understanding. But she was desperate.

Sure enough, the people who'd built Atlantis had mastered the propagation of stem cells thousands of years ago and recorded their research and techniques. According to her Earth colleagues, cells from different areas of an adult could be harvested to serve the same purpose as embryonic stem cells. With the knowledge contained in the Ancient database and guidance from her colleagues Jennifer was hopeful of growing cultures of these cells within a few days, in time to be helpful to Sam.

It was worth a try.

After all, time was running out.

OoOoOo

(Jack's thoughts …)

_Time is running out. _

_I'm waking up in my wife's bed for the second time in as many mornings. And she's here in my arms, her head resting softly on my chest, her silky blond hair moving ever so slightly with every breath I take. It feels so right. _

_I've held her like this most of the night. It's likely we fell asleep in this very position. _

_But time is running out._

_She made some headway with that Dr. Lattimore the other day. She's starting to remember more, talk with me about what it's been like for her. She's coming back to me. But it's not easy._

_And I know time is running out._

_As nice as this is, I know it can't last. I'll have to fight for her. I've done that before, but I'm not sure I know how this time. How do I fight a problem I don't understand? I'd much rather face an over the top Goa'uld or a fleet of Replicators any day. _

_Like it or not, it's time to wake up. Sam's due at the infirmary for her next series of infusions. If that clock's right, she's already late. I wish I could protect her from all of this, beat someone or something into giving us the answer._ _But all I can do is walk by her side and give her what little support I can._

With that thought, Jack decided to take the action he knew was inevitable. He moved ever so slightly, bringing his lips to her ear.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he whispered. "Rise and shine, Keller doesn't look like the patient type to me."

Sam merely mumbled an unintelligible reply, shifting the slightest bit from her original position.

"Nope, that's not gonna cut it, Carter," Jack observed teasingly. He started to sit up in bed, bringing a less than eager, obviously sleepy Colonel with him.

"Come on," he encouraged her, "if Keller's like the other medical types we know, get on her wrong side and the really big needles come out."

At that, Sam managed a weak smile, opened her eyes half mast and looked at her tormenter. The humor was familiar.

"Good try," she responded. "But I don't want to get out of bed."

"Oh really?" Jack said, doing his best to conceal a smirk. He couldn't agree with her more but he wouldn't let Sam know that. "There's work to be done."

"Mmm," she mumbled, trying to burrow back under the covers.

"Sam, we're due in the infirmary," Jack said finally. By now, he'd sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Gingerly, he'd succeeded in bringing Sam to the same position. Reluctantly, she sat up on her own, doing a less than stellar job of wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Alright, if I have to," she said. "Morning…"

"Good morning, yourself," he answered, kissing her gently and moving to his feet. "You feeling strong enough to go down there," he asked, "or do I ask Jennifer to make a house call?"

"What," she answered, "so she can bring all _the really big needles_ with her? I don't think so."

"That's better," Jack said. "Bathroom's all yours. I'll make some coffee."

With that, Jack walked into the small adjoining kitchenette, intent on starting a pot of coffee and giving Sam a bit of privacy. By the time he'd measured out Sam's favorite blend an unexpected crash in the bedroom alerted him all was not well.

"Sam …"

What he found made his heart stand still for a moment. Apparently, Sam had fallen as soon as she'd made an effort to get up from the bed. She wasn't moving.

"Sam," he called. Jack ran to her side and knelt down. With care, he turned her body towards him. Cradling her head and shoulders in his arms, he called once more.

"Sam, wake up."

Her eyes opened slowly. Though she looked directly at him, her head lolled to the side, resting against his arm.

"Jack," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Sam reached for Jack's hand and clung to it briefly. Then she exhaled sharply. Her head fell towards his shoulder and her hand lost its grip.

Concerned, Jack activated the radio he'd been fitted with upon his arrival.

"Medical emergency," he called. "Dr. Keller to Colonel Carter's quarters." _Oh to hell with that,_ he thought, looking at Sam's limp form as she lay helpless in his arms. "On second thought, we'll meet you on the way."

With that, he carefully lifted Sam into his arms and began to sprint towards the infirmary.

Time was running out.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Please review and let me know you're still reading!


	33. Chapter 33 Indignation

A/N: It seemed to be agreed that leaving the last chapter where I did was mean – sorry! I'm out of practice! And while I'm making pre-chapter comments, many thanks for all of your responses to the last chapter; glad to know you're still out there.

* * *

**Last time**_: "Medical emergency," he called. "Dr. Keller to Colonel Carter's quarters." Oh to hell with that, he thought, looking at Sam's limp form as she lay helpless in his arms. "On second thought, we'll meet you on the way."_

_With that, he carefully lifted Sam into his arms and began to sprint towards the infirmary._

_Time was running out._

* * *

Chapter 33: Indignation

Dr. Keller and her staff met Jack at the transporter. He was breathing heavily, having run nearly half a mile from Sam's quarters to that point, carrying her in his arms. He looked frazzled and worried. For a moment, Jennifer was almost as concerned about the health of the middle aged man standing in front of her as for the unconscious woman he carried.

Without hesitation, the medics accompanying Dr. Keller took Sam from Jack's arms, placing her on the gurney they'd brought with them. Deftly, they began to apply monitor leads and triage her condition.

"We'll take over from here, General," Jennifer said. Her tone allowed no argument; she was in her element and the man standing before her looked exhausted. He needed help whether he'd admit it or not.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you," Jack said, trembling more from his emotional upheaval than the agony in his damaged, aging knees. Silently, he cursed the way his body had begun to betray him.

Jennifer's heart went out to Jack O'Neill. He was clearly devoted to Sam. Her physical decline was taking its toll on him as well. If they lost Sam to this god-forsaken Wraith experiment, Jack would likely follow. Keller intended to do everything in her power to save both of them. For now, she did what little she could to reassure Jack.

"General, her vital signs are stable," Keller said, watching the monitor tracings as her team transported Sam to the infirmary. Walking next to O'Neill, she continued, "We'll do everything we can to improve her condition."

"That's not what I want to hear, Doctor," Jack persisted irritably. "We need a cure. Have you got one?"

"I'm working on it, Sir," Jennifer said, trying to avoid feeling intimidated by this man. "Actually, I believe we're fairly close. Just a few more days and we'll be ready to test it."

Jack fixed the young professional with a look guaranteed to whither more sturdy stock. "See that you do, Doctor," he said. Then regretting his harshness, he added, "Be sure to let me know what I can do to help."

"I think you know how you can help, Sir," Keller said immediately. "Be here for her. And whatever you do, take care of yourself," she said, clearly referring to his now noticeable limp. "She doesn't need you running yourself into the ground." With that, Jennifer met General O'Neill's steely gaze head-on. And in that moment, they understood each other.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, in an interrogation room, Anita Lattimore faced a determined interrogator. John Sheppard was only getting started, keenly aware of the watchful gaze of his less than welcome companion, Mr. Woolsey.

"How long have you been feeding information to the Wraith?" Sheppard asked.

Anita looked at him for a long moment then shook her head.

"How could you believe that of me?" she asked. "I've worked with you nearly a year. I would never betray you or anyone on Atlantis."

"I don't want to believe it," John admitted, "but we've tracked transmissions to you, Dr. Lattimore."

"That's impossible," Anita countered. "I haven't done anything. I certainly haven't communicated with the Wraith."

Before Anita could protest further, the headache started again. It was bearable at first, as usual. For the moment she simply pressed the palm of her right hand to her forehead and rubbed gently, hoping for some relief. Sometimes it helped, at least temporarily.

"Our logs say something different," John persisted, ignoring Lattimore's gesture. "They track transmissions from your quarters to Wraith strongholds, each time shortly before our buddies showed up where they were least wanted."

"Then your logs are wrong," Anita said, moaning softly as the headache increased in intensity.

"There was a transmission the day before the Alpha site was compromised," John said. "What were you doing that day? I didn't see any appointments on your schedule."

"You've been looking at my schedule?" Anita asked, glaring at Atlantis' current military leader. "Those records, my patient lists are confidential."

"Doctor, this is a secure facility," Sheppard countered. "When it comes to security, nothing is confidential. I'll ask you again, what were you doing that day?"

"If you must know, I was in bed," Anita answered irritably. "I had a migraine that wouldn't stop. In fact, I'm getting one now."

While Anita frowned against the increasing pain, John was less than impressed by her answer. Richard Woolsey, who'd sat silently up till this point, found it necessary to try and smooth things over for his friend and therapist.

"Dr. Lattimore," he began, "I believe Colonel Sheppard requires a somewhat more extensive accounting for your whereabouts."

Before Anita could respond, the door to the interrogation room burst open. A fairly agitated Sergeant Donovan stood in the doorway.

"Sir, we're tracking two signals headed out to Wraith controlled space," he said.

"Where are they coming from?" Sheppard asked.

"We have one subject in the isolation room," Donovan said, careful to avoid specifics in front of Lattimore. "The second signal is coming from this room, Dr. Lattimore to be exact."

"But how …."

Before John Sheppard could turn back to Anita, the psychologist took hold of her head in both hands, her face twisted in pain. Sparing a short, agonized look at the men in front of her, she slowly lowered her head to the table and was still.

It looked like Dr. Keller had another patient.

OoOoOo

While Anita was transported to the infirmary for evaluation, Sergeant Donovan informed John Sheppard and Richard Woolsey of yet another suspected spy in their midst. In addition to the intercepted subspace transmissions, actual computer files had been found to support their suspicions in this particular case. As luck for have it, Donovan failed to supply a name before the three came within earshot of the isolation cell.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The voice was familiar, Sheppard thought. But it couldn't be, could it?

"I've single handedly saved this base more times than I can count," the man's rant continued. "This is the thanks I get?"

John stopped short, facing Donovan and Woolsey.

"This can't be," Sheppard protested. "Rodney wouldn't think of doing this."

"That's what I still say about Dr. Lattimore," Woolsey added. "She's dedicated to her patients. She'd never betray them."

"Whatever you think about them personally, Sirs, we have to take the evidence seriously," Donovan insisted. "In Dr. McKay's case, it's on his laptop, clear as day. He didn't even try to hide it."

"See, McKay would never do that," John said.

"Let me out of here!" The call came from the isolation area, just as Sheppard opened the door.

"Rodney," John greeted him, "seems you're in a bit of a situation."

"Get me out of here!"

"Sorry, no can do," Sheppard said reluctantly, wincing at the look his friend threw him. "We need to talk".

OoOoOo

Still out of reach of Atlantis' long range sensors, a Wraith cruiser steadily made its way toward its intended goal. A select group of Wraith warriors and elected leaders composed the crew. They hailed from ten different Wraith hives. To a soul, each and every one of them longed for changes in the course of their cultural evolution. Some believed and trusted in the words of the Testament more than others, yet all had agreed to the current course of action. If they were right, this journey of a single Wraith would be the beginning of Llocha-re's dream.

With that hope, Oscar boarded a solitary dart for the final approach to Atlantis.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!!


	34. Chapter 34 Surrender

Chapter 34: Surrender

It had already been quite a day.

Colonel Carter was in the infirmary. According to Dr. Keller, she was comatose.

Dr. Lattimore, Atlantis' resident psychotherapist and the first spy to be identified, had arrived in the infirmary no more than fifteen minutes after Colonel Carter. She remained incapacitated.

Rodney McKay, the foremost scientific expert on Ancient and Wraith technology was now in the brig, accused of passing information to the enemy.

_This whole place is falling apart_, Woolsey thought. _How do they expect me to do my job when no one is cooperating?_

But it wasn't over. Before Woolsey could make his way back to the control room, sensors detected the approach of a single Wraith dart. It was headed straight towards Atlantis. And it was hailing.

"Mr. Woolsey to the Gate Room," the head technician called. "Mr. Woolsey to the Gate Room," he repeated.

Woolsey appeared as he was being summoned.

"Yes, yes, what is so urgent?" Richard asked, certain there couldn't be one more thing to disturb the status quo today.

Needless to say the new, in-over-his-head leader of the expedition was mistaken. There was one more very big thing on the horizon today. The man who'd always judged how others performed under pressure, did his best to suppress a groan as he was informed of the dart's approach. Inexperienced as he was, he'd been on deck long enough to know a Wraith visit was seldom a thing of beauty.

"Sir," the technician persisted, "the ship is hailing us, requesting permission to land."

To his credit, Woolsey knew when he was in over his head. Much as he'd felt free to criticize Samantha Carter's handling of confrontations with hostile aliens, he was more than a bit taken aback by these particular creatures. After all, they fed on human beings. The idea of having one in Atlantis, voluntarily, on his watch was less than attractive.

"Open a channel, Lieutenant," Woolsey said, "and page Colonel Sheppard to the control room."

The young technician did as he was ordered, summoned Sheppard and then signaled Woolsey all was in readiness for him to speak with the approaching alien ship. Everything was ready, aside from Woolsey himself. _Well, no time like the present_, he thought.

"I'm Richard Woolsey, civilian commander of Atlantis," he began, standing at attention. He looked resolutely through the large windows framing the control room as he spoke, as if he could somehow impress this unknown Wraith with his strength of purpose.

"With whom am I speaking?" Woolsey asked.

He didn't have long to wait before the visitor introduced himself.

"I am commander of the Hive of the Testament. I command for my Queen. I believe your people call me Oscar," the stilted, halting reply sounded in Woolsey's apprehensive ears. "I would like to talk with you."

By now, Sheppard had arrived, accompanied by Teyla and Ronon. Standing just behind Woolsey, he made his presence known. With a nod of his head, Richard Woolsey acknowledged him. Relieved he had back-up, the understandably nervous bureaucrat forged ahead.

"We are talking," he observed. "What is it you want?"

"I would prefer to speak with you in person," Oscar continued. The Wraith realized this entire undertaking would be a delicate dance of diplomacy and patience on his part. Neither he nor his people were skilled at either dancing or patience. It would be challenging. He would succeed for the good of his people and the glory of his Beloved. At this point, failure was unthinkable.

"Why would we want to do that?" Woolsey countered.

Oscar focused his breathing and suppressed the menacing growl itching to lash out at this insolent human. If he hoped to cement a working relationship with this species, he must discipline himself to act more like his human ancestors than his Iratus progenitors. It would not be easy. There was so much distrust on both sides, so much angst and hatred.

"I believe we can help each other, Mr. Woolsey," Oscar said. He succeeded to making his pale face expressionless and his voice relatively soft and mellow. "I understand you have no reason to trust me. If you allow passage, I will come under a flag of surrender. You may do with me as you will. I will bring no weapon."

"And … exactly how could you help us?" Woolsey asked, gradually gaining a bit more confidence in his ability to deal with this particular Wraith, at least from a distance.

"If I am not mistaken, one of your expedition members is critically ill. It is possible that together we can save Samantha Carter."

Sheppard signaled Woolsey and stepped front and center.

"Colonel John Sheppard here, 'Oscar'," he said. "Why would you want to help Colonel Carter? Aren't you the one who did this to her in the first place?"

"Right you are, Colonel," Oscar admitted pleasantly enough. "To succeed, we must trust each other. Success will benefit the Wraith as much as it benefits your friend.

"Will you allow me to land my ship?"

Sheppard signaled the communications technician to mute the line temporarily. The four members of the senior staff gathered in the control room considered the possibilities silently for a moment before Ronon found his voice.

"Never known a Wraith to help a human for any reason," he said. "You can't trust them."

"Todd saved my life," Sheppard objected. "Sure he had some ulterior motives and yeah, he's still Wraithy at times, but he helped me when I needed it."

"Only after he fed on you, Colonel," Teyla reminded him.

"There's that," he admitted. "But we've got all the cards here. We scan him, throw him in the brig and then figure it out. The way I see it, we haven't got a lot to lose."

"Open a channel," Woolsey said. He'd correctly surmised that the Wraith would be paying them a visit.

"You are cleared to land on the southernmost pier of the city. We are transmitting the coordinates. Two of our fighters will escort you in. Wait for them. Any false moves will result in your immediate destruction. Is that clear?"

"Abundantly, Mr. Woolsey," Oscar replied. "I look forward to meeting you in person."

"Channel's closed, Sir," the technician announced. "The Wraith terminated our contact."

"Colonel, get two of our jumpers in the air," Woolsey said. "I'll notify security to be ready."

"I want to be there to meet him," Ronon said. This Wraith bearing gifts was not about to trick him. He wanted to be on point to protect the place he'd learned to call home.

"Go," Woolsey said, "you too, Teyla, let me know what you think. I'm sure I'll be meeting him soon enough."

OoOoOo

The time had come for action. He didn't know whether success was possible. Then again he'd never know if he didn't try.

The convocation of his fellow Wraith had been a fascinating meeting of the minds. There'd been dissenting voices even within the select group of Wraith who revered the Testament. Distrust was rampant and it wasn't limited to distrust of the humans. Each hive questioned the motivations and loyalties of the others. It was hard to imagine how a species so divided could ever find harmony and peace among themselves let alone with a group of aliens.

Still, salvation and continued life beckoned. If they desired to continue as a species, they would have to transcend their prejudices and preconceptions. Oscar intended to show them the way, to show them the humans could be trusted. He hoped he was right. Either way, he would know soon enough.

TBC

* * *

A/N: What do you think?


	35. Chapter 35 Oscar

_Still, salvation and continued life beckoned. If they desired to continue as a species, they would have to transcend their prejudices and preconceptions. Oscar intended to show them the way, to show them the humans could be trusted. He hoped he was right. Either way, he would know soon enough._

* * *

Chapter 35 Oscar

Sure enough, before Oscar could input the landing coordinates, two of the crafts the humans called jumpers materialized next to his dart. He had the coordinates, he had his escort. Now he was zeroing in on the landing area.

Atlantis … finally, he was here. He'd heard stories as a child. It was said to be a place of magic, the stronghold of their Ancient enemies. This was where he hoped to change the relationship between human and Wraith.

He'd spoken the truth to the human leader. He carried no weapons. He'd brought with him only his hopes and dreams, his ambitions for the future of his people. And the Testament, he carried the Testament. As an act of ultimate faith and in the hope of eliciting some degree of trust and understanding among the humans, Oscar had brought the Testament of Llocha-re with him. He'd convinced Beloved that it was necessary to carry with him the original manuscript, tens of thousands of years old. It would be an offering of sorts, granting the humans an insight into the soul of their enemy. It would be a soul they'd never suspected existed.

Oscar, on the other hand, had caught glimpses of the human soul. Initially, it was through Denny, the conflicted, newly battle hardened young man, desperate to survive. In Denny, Oscar learned humans were not so different from Wraith in their determination to hold on to life, whatever it took. Then of course there was the observer, the innocent unknowing observer. He'd planted a tracker in her without her knowledge. While it allowed him to observe happenings on Atlantis at times, it also allowed access to her thoughts and feelings. From her, he'd learned the tenderness of human care for others, a feeling that somehow coexisted with fierce ambition in Dr. Anita Lattimore.

His informant, the Atlantis spy who'd come to the Wraith of his own free will, well he was another story altogether. From this traitorous scientist, Oscar learned about human cowardice and greed. Again it wasn't all that different from some of the less pleasant characteristics of his Wraith brothers. Still he'd hoped for more.

It was that something more he'd found in Samantha Carter. During her captivity, she'd taught him about human bravery and grit. He'd taken everything from her and still she resisted him. She'd clung incessantly to her memories, memories of one man, the one he'd later learned was her husband. Thanks to Dr. Lattimore's observations, Oscar knew it was this man who'd aided Sam's recovery thus far. He wanted to meet this one, the man who claimed the loyalty of such a strong female warrior. Oscar believed he would be worthy of respect, a man who could be trusted.

_Ah, here they come_, he thought. He'd landed the dart only a moment ago; already, he could hear the boarding party approaching. He'd make it easy for them. _I'll simply bring down the canopy. There, not so difficult._ Of course, he was met by well trained soldiers, all with weapons trained on him. These humans held all the cards right now and still they acted so fearful, needed so much control over him. Well he would let them have what they needed, at least for now. _Time will tell_, Oscar thought. _Time will tell_.

OoOoOo

"Where is he?"

"Sir?"

"The Wraith, where is he?"

Jennifer Keller was surprised. The more she thought she knew Jack O'Neill the more the man surprised her. He'd been sitting by his wife's bedside for the better part of twenty four hours. To her knowledge, he'd left the infirmary for no more than minute periods of time. Still, somehow, he knew about the arrival of the infamous Wraith, the one who'd captured and experimented on Sam. She might as well answer him; she had no doubt he'd get the information one way or another.

"He's just arrived, Sir," she answered. Jennifer couldn't help but worry what General O'Neill's reaction to this particular Wraith would be. "I believe he's in interrogation."

"Where?"

"Sir?"

"You know what I'm asking Doctor," Jack stated testily. "Don't stall. You know I'll find out what I want to know. Where is he?"

"Sir, I don't think …"

Jack wasn't smiling. It was quite a while since anyone had avoided giving him information he requested. After all he was a Major General. Rather than arguing, he simply glared at the young Keller. Needless to say, the information was forthcoming.

:"Take good care of her doctor," he said. "I'll be back."

With that Jack O'Neill squeezed Sam's hand tenderly, kissed her forehead and left her to Dr. Keller's care. He left the infirmary with deadly purpose. It was a stride Jennifer couldn't mistake. She called security.

OoOoOo

In a top security isolation room, Oscar stood alone, looking out at the men he'd voluntarily made his captors. Confined behind electrified beams of energy, he stared openly at John Sheppard, Ronon and Sergeant Donovan. Two armed security officers flanked the first three. It was a standoff of sorts, no one speaking, only staring. Fine, Oscar thought, I can wait them out. And in a fit of pique, he held his tongue.

Finally, Sheppard broke the silence.

"Okay, you came to us," John said. "You said you could help Colonel Carter. What can you tell us?"

In spite of himself, Oscar could feel his hackles rising. They treated him as though he were a commoner. He was used to deference. But he was here for a higher purpose. His ego would have to wait. Still he couldn't suppress one threatening hiss. It was the least they deserved.

"If I am not mistaken, Colonel Sheppard, I suggested we could work together to help Samantha Carter," Oscar corrected. "I am willing to do so, once we come to an understanding."

"What understanding would we want to have with you?" Ronon asked irritably.

Oscar quickly took the measure of the large, muscular Satedan. He was clearly not one to be toyed with; besides, Oscar had more serious business.

"My mission is peaceful. I am hoping we can help each, Satedan," Oscar said.

Ronon snorted loudly.

"What kind of game is this?" Ronon asked, looking at Sheppard. "You're not buying this?"

"I'm willing to hear what he has to say," Sheppard replied.

Oscar nodded, realizing Sheppard would be the more reasonable of the two. Still he was not the one finally in charge.

:"Where is Mr. Woolsey?"

"He's otherwise occupied right now," Sheppard replied. "You'll need to deal with me. Where were we?"

Oscar began to pace heavily. In the farthest corner of the observation area, Sergeant Donovan responded privately to a radio call from Jennifer Keller.

"You were about to tell me how Colonel Carter is today," Oscar started, sounding pleasant, even concerned.

Before anyone could respond to the Wraith's unexpected request, the door to the isolation area burst open. Standing in the doorway, seconds after Security Chief Donovan was notified by radio, was one preternaturally calm Jack O'Neill. Without saying a word, he walked over to stand by John Sheppard. Looking Oscar up and down, Jack then turned to  
Sheppard.

:"Leave," Jack said flatly. "I want to speak with him alone."

_Damn_, Sheppard thought. _It won't be good if I leave him in here by himself_. Though he had complete confidence in the older man's abilities, he knew his judgment was likely affected by his emotions at this stage of the game.

Sheppard turned to Ronon and the others.

"Everyone, out," he said.

"Sir?" questioned Donovan.

"Security, wait outside the door," he clarified. "We'll call if we need you."

Reluctantly, Donovan followed Sheppard's order and led his security contingent from the area. Ronon lingered behind.

"You too, Ronon," Sheppard directed.

Oscar watched as the Satedan departed. The older man who'd arrived most recently didn't look pleased. In fact, he glared at Colonel Sheppard, clearly waiting for him to leave as well.

"Respectfully, Sir …" Sheppard began.

"Fine," Jack responded. Before anything more could be said, O'Neill moved to stand directly in front of Oscar. They were separated only by the force field. Face to face, the agonizing husband confronted the one who'd abducted his wife.

"I'm General Jack O'Neill," he announced.

"I know who you are," Oscar responded.

"Then you know what I want."

Oscar acknowledged Jack's statement.

"I do. You want your wife to survive."

"Your life depends on it," Jack announced flatly.

"I thought as much," was Oscar's only response.

"What do you know?"

"That she's ill. Likely starving to death in front of your eyes," Oscar said. "I would imagine that is a horrendous thing for a man of action like you, General. Having no ability to help the one you love. Tell me, what is her current status?"

Sheppard was watching the interaction closely. He was ready to step in if he believed intervention was necessary

"Her current condition?" Jack repeated. "You son of a bitch! How dare you show up here, pretending to be concerned about the woman you tortured! She's in a coma, damn you. Why do you care?"

"Because if we can cure her, that answer will ultimately benefit my people," Oscar answered. Then, "I would speak with you alone, O'Neill."

Jack worked to regain his composure. He wanted to take revenge on the miserable creature now impotent before him. Let him out, let him hurt the one who'd hurt Sam so badly. But it would have to wait. Sheppard's presence would insure that it would wait. For now, revenge would wait.

"You'll talk in front of him," Jack said. "For now, then we'll see."

"Very well," Oscar said. He took a seat, positioning himself comfortably, clearly ready for a long conversation. "I have a story to tell both of you. Then we'll see if we can do business."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and review. Finally, Oscar is about to spill the beans! I wonder if they'll believe him.


	36. Chapter 36 Negotiation

_Jack worked to regain his composure. He wanted to take revenge on the miserable creature now impotent before him. Let him out, let him hurt the one who'd hurt Sam so badly. But it would have to wait. Sheppard's presence would insure that it would wait. For now, revenge would wait._

_"You'll talk in front of him," Jack said. "For now, then we'll see."_

_"Very well," Oscar said. He took a seat, positioning himself comfortably, clearly ready for a long conversation. "I have a story to tell both of you. Then we'll see if we can do business."_

* * *

Chapter 36: Negotiation

"Why should I believe a word you say?"

An experienced soldier and a reluctant diplomat by virtue of his current Homeworld Security position, Jack O'Neill was trying his best to avoid out and out hostilities with Atlantis' newest prisoner. If, as he asserted, he could help Sam recover, then it behooved Jack and the others to hear him out. If not, Jack would happily shove him out an airlock for what he'd done to his wife.

For his part, Oscar was fully aware he needed the human leader's help if he hoped to save his people. His answer to Jack's testy question said as much.

"There is only one reason you should believe me," Oscar said. "My people have as much at stake here as your wife."

"Really?" Jack asked, clearly unimpressed. "Sam's starving to death thanks to you. As far as I know, the Wraith are doing just fine feeding on us little humans. You'll forgive me if I don't see things the same way."

Condescension was one of Oscar's strong suits; he was sorely tempted to respond as such. These pathetic humans knew nothing of them. There wasn't the slightest speck of appreciation for Wraith culture or Wraith sensitivities. That made Oscar angry, insulted him in fact. But now wasn't the time for hurt feelings.

"It will probably surprise you to know that feeding on humans is distasteful to many of us," Oscar said. He'd decided to put it out there and gauge Jack's reaction.

"Yeah, it surprises me," Jack said. "My people tell me you guys seem to enjoy it."

"Your people are wrong sometimes, General," Oscar asserted. "As are mine most likely. My people tell me the humans want to destroy all of us. Such genocidal machinations! Surely 'your people' do not think that way."

The Wraith's assertion brought Jack up short. As a matter of fact, "his people" had attempted to destroy the Wraith on more than one occasion. To have a creature they often considered no more than a subhuman monster call them on it was shocking.

"What does any of this have to do with Sam?" Jack asked. As far as he was concerned all this discussion of Wraith concerns was beside the point. He wanted to get back on track. Standing outside Oscar's holding cell, he remembered the time Sam had spent in the very same confinement.

"Everything," Oscar answered his voice low and perfectly modulated. "It has everything to do with your wife. It's why I chose her for my experiment. In fact, it's the very reason our experiment is so important."

"Could you get to the point?" Jack asked. He'd had enough of this infuriatingly calm Wraith talking around things. "What do you want and what does it have to do with Sam?"

Oscar's lips turned upward in the Wraith equivalent of a smirk. "I like you," he said, looking Jack over head to toe, measuring him physically as well as emotionally. Simple, straightforward, unafraid, he was a man Oscar could understand.

"That's great," Jack said sarcastically. "So …"

"Let's say I've been working on a plan to free my people of their dependence on humans for food. I need help. That's why I'm here."

"Make a habit of asking your food source for help?" Jack observed incredulously.

Oscar smiled, if you could call it that. "General O'Neill, I need to make something clear. I do not see you and your people strictly as a source of food. I and the others of my hive believe the Wraith evolved from your people. There was a time our progenitors lived as you now live. It was before the Ancients brought us to the home world, the planet where we found what you call the Iratus bug. We are more like you than most realize. That's why I know you can help us. You and your people have made efforts, have you not?"

"Efforts to help you? I don't think so," Jack answered.

Jack looked and sounded perplexed, unsure of where this was going. Sheppard jumped in. He had an idea what Oscar was asking.

"Sir, I believe he is referring to Dr. Beckett's research with the retrovirus," Sheppard supplied.

"Oh, that," Jack said, recalling the reports he'd read. "As I recall that research didn't exactly cure your problem. And Keller says it won't help Sam either."

"That's correct," Oscar replied. "The retrovirus wipes all Wraith characteristics from existence as we learned with my unfortunate friend. You remember, he's the one you named Michael.

"That's not what we want," Oscar continued. "We are not ashamed of our being. We want to continue to be Wraith, who and what we are. However, given our sensibilities and the current food shortages, we would prefer to be free of our dependence on your kind."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this," Jack said, more for his own benefit than to anyone in particular.

Finally, Oscar got up from his uncomfortable metal chair and began to pace, slowly and deliberately. After a moment he stopped, coming to stand directly in front of Jack.

"Again, you are interested only in yourself," Oscar observed dismissively.

"No, that's not true," Jack insisted. "You son of a …," Jack reigned himself in mid-sentence. _Will any of this help us save Sam_?

Oscar's previously wilting expression softened as Jack remained silent.

"I have chosen well," he said. "I knew I needed help from the city of the Ancients, from the ones who have inherited the technology forbidden us. But how to motivate you to share, that was the question."

The light began to go on. And Jack didn't particularly like what he saw.

"I needed a human greatly valued by her people, personally and professionally. Someone you would not want to lose, someone you would do anything to save. My experiment demanded I find someone who was strong enough to survive the genetic changes and the memory wipe. She needed to survive in such a way that her baseline personality remained intact and the inner struggle would occur. One of influence, one who's agony would be felt by the community as a whole. We could have made her Wraith, made her look like us, as you did to Michael, make the memory wipe so complete she'd never regain her recollections. But that would have been counterproductive. The plan was always to send her back to you. We wanted you to watch her struggle, to be motivated to continue your research, to find a way to reverse what we had done. If I am correct, her cure will be the beginning of our answer as well.

"Rest assured, General," Oscar continued, "my plan calls for Colonel Carter to survive. I expect she will be our greatest human advocate. You see, she will truly understand the conflict we feel when forced to feed. She will understand it in a way no other human could. And working together, we will be able to produce and offer a cure."

Jack was dumbfounded. It was a lot to take in. Oscar's perspective on human society, his belief that some members were more valuable than others was a sad but perhaps accurate observation. And Sam was strong, he was right about that. Perhaps what mystified him the most was the concept of Wraith wanting to the "cured" of the need to feed. He didn't buy it, it didn't ring true.

"You do not believe that I want to help," Oscar stated simply.

"Got to admit, doesn't sound like the Wraith we all know and love," Jack said. Turning to Sheppard, he added, "What do you think Colonel?"

"Sounds unlikely to me, too, Sir."

Oscar walked around his eight-by-ten cell with a meditative stance.

"I anticipated your skepticism," he said. "I've brought something with me that will help you see I speak the truth."

"Exactly what would that be?"

"The Testament," Oscar answered. "It is the most revered book in our culture, the writings of our first queen, the one who had been human. She speaks of her struggle. It is a struggle we have all shared. It is an ancient text and will introduce you anew to my people.

"It is secreted in the dart."

"Tell us where it is," Jack said. "I'll send someone."

"No, we must go together," Oscar said. "You may have me under guard of course, but you must trust me that much. We must begin somewhere."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Don't worry we will deal more fully with the spy (spies) in the next few chapters.

Thanks for your feedback.


	37. Chapter 37 Truth

_"The Testament," Oscar answered. "It is the most revered book in our culture, the writings of our first queen, the one who had been human. She speaks of her struggle. It is a struggle we have all shared. It is an ancient text and will introduce you anew to my people._

_"It is secreted in the dart."_

_"Tell us where it is," Jack said. "I'll send someone."_

_"No, we must go together," Oscar said. "You may have me under guard of course, but you must trust me that much. We must begin somewhere_

* * *

Chapter 37: Truth

"She's crashing!"

She'd woken up an hour ago. Extremely agitated, breathing heavily, she was delirious. Memories were assaulting her faster than she could handle them. She insisted on seeing her "own doctor", Janet Frasier. Thrashing and screaming when this didn't happen, she'd been sedated. They'd called Jack. He'd been on one of the outer piers of the city where the dart had landed. With Oscar and the guards in tow, he'd made good time, arriving in less than twenty minutes.

By the time he arrived, Sam was awake once more, fighting the effects of her sedative. Jack ran to her side, doing his best to calm his distraught wife. For a reason no one understood, his efforts appeared to have the opposite effect. Sam bolted from the bed, stumbling to the opposite side of the room. Within seconds she collapsed.

Jack carried her back to the infirmary bed before anyone else could reach her. But when Dr. Rogers checked her, she wasn't breathing.

Now Jack stood transfixed while the medics roughly pushed him out of the way.

At Dr. Rogers call for help, Jennifer Keller and the code team came out of nowhere. Within seconds they surrounded the bed of the unfortunate patient whose heart had so rudely stopped beating. And they went to work. The experienced trauma team worked their well oiled drill, rescue breathing, cardiac massage, intubation, epinephrine, it went like clockwork. Slowly, Sam's EKG tracing showed signs of improvement, very slowly. Jack reminded himself to breath as he watched Sam's struggle, willing her heart to start beating on its own. For that period of time, no one else existed, no one but the two of them. He'd give his life for her; he only needed to know how to do that.

It seemed like an eternity. Truth be told, within ten minutes, Sam was stabilized. Jennifer and her team stood back for a moment and assessed the situation. The crisis had taken them by surprise. Sure there was a risk; they were treating an unknown ailment after all. But Sam's condition had been improving. The intravenous feedings had been working. In fact, she'd woken from her coma. That should have been good news. But for some reason it wasn't.

"Stay with her," Jennifer instructed Dr. Rogers. "I'll be with General O'Neill."

As Jennifer turned from her patient she found Jack no more than two feet behind her, his eyes locked on Sam, a single tear falling unimpeded from his right eye. His face was ashen.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.

"She'll pull out of this, right?" He asked.

"We need to talk," Jennifer said, starting to take Jack's arm, directing him to her office. Before either of them could make any headway they realized Oscar and his guards had come to the Infirmary right along with Jack. In the chaos of the code, they'd remained just outside the doorway. While the guards remained fixed on Oscar, Oscar, his arms cradling the Testament, had studiously watched the humans' attempts to save Sam.

From what he saw he knew he could help. Whether they would let him was another story.

"General O'Neill," Oscar called before the man could be spirited away, "I'd like to know more about her current condition. If I'm right about what is happening, I believe I can help."

"And I believe you've done enough," Jennifer blurted out. "If you'd excuse us, I need to speak with …"

"Wait a minute doctor," Jack insisted. "Like it or not, I need to hear him out."

Keller was shocked. She knew O'Neill was neither patient nor tolerant, particularly when it came to people who'd threatened his wife. To see him suggest this Wraith could somehow be trusted to help Sam…well, that was...unexpected.

But Jack was the General. So with some reluctance, Jennifer included Oscar and those guarding him in what would normally have been a family meeting. Painstakingly, she reviewed the most recent series of events, those which ended in the cardiac arrest they'd witnessed. Reluctantly, she admitted the nutrient solution she'd been administering had failed to completely normalize Sam's electrolyte balance. It was likely that failure had contributed to her delirium a few moments ago.

"And she was pulling on McKay's glove," Jennifer added. "Rogers said she looked desperate to take it off right before you got here, General."

"That's strange," Jack said. "Sam thought that glove was a gift. She said it decreased the compulsion to feed, helped her feel safe …human."

Oscar had heard enough. And he had seen it all before. In his hive, he'd seen it.

"I know what's happening here," he said.

Jack and Jennifer turned to look at the Wraith, now sitting bound to the chair opposite Dr. Keller's desk, the chair next to Jack's.

"The problem is that Colonel Carter is no longer simply human. The 'glove' your scientist devised cannot take away the part of her that is Wraith; it can only hide its physical manifestation. However the compulsion remains. She has been fighting it since the day she took her first victim. How many has she fed upon here?"

The question was unsettling in itself. Jack looked at Jennifer, then back to the Wraith. How could this creature believe Sam would feed on her own people, here in Atlantis? How could he believe they would allow it to happen?

"She hasn't," Jack said, doing his best to control his outrage, "fed on anyone here, that is." He decided to leave his answer simple and factual. He wanted to see Oscar's next move.

"You will not allow someone as important as Colonel Carter to feed?" Oscar asked, sincerely puzzled.

He genuinely didn't understand, Jack told himself.

"No one is so important that we'd allow her to take another life," Keller replied, glancing knowingly at Jack, remembering how he'd offered his own life.

"So she has struggled with the compulsion for several days," Oscar observed. "She was fighting the war within herself while she was with us. I could see the toll that it took. General, my people also fight that war at times. It is exactly what happens to us when our food supply is as limited as it is right now. Each of us makes choices between our own hunger and the welfare of others, often of our own hive. I have seen hive-mates die as they continued to deny their own physical needs. Their death has been as much from the emotional trauma as from their starvation."

"But she can't be starving," Keller protested.

"You refer to your nutrient mixture?" Oscar observed. "It is not sufficient, not for someone who is part Wraith. That is where I can help. The enzyme, the fluid we inject into our subjects, we have used it in our hive to increase the amount of time we can survive without nourishment. I believe Samantha needs this as well as your nutrients."

Jack got up from his chair and stood directly in front of the tethered Wraith. Towering over him, he said, "If you think you are placing any more Wraith stuff in her, you're crazier than I thought."

"I am not crazy," Oscar protested calmly. "I know what works in these situations because those of my family have suffered the same thing. We will administer a relatively small dose, simply enough to replenish her system. I believe that will temporarily restore her to you until we can manage a more permanent solution."

"That's the stuff Ford took, isn't it?" Jack asked.

"Yes, it is," Keller said. "But he was given, and later took, massive doses. Other members of Colonel Sheppard's team took smaller doses and suffered no ill effects. I don't think it would be harmful. Then again, I don't know it would do any good."

"Do you have a better idea?" Jack asked.

"No, Sir," Keller admitted. "I'm developing a stem cell treatment that will replenish the normal cells lining her intestinal tract. But it may take several days to perfect that research. After what we saw today, I'm not sure we have that long."

Oscar sat silently and shook his head.

"What?" Jack demanded.

"Again you have forgotten the Wraith part of the equation," Oscar said. "But we must take one step at a time. Let me produce the enzyme for her. Then get your scientists to work with me on the stem cell treatment.

"I believe the man who developed 'the glove' may be helpful."

"Dr. McKay is not available," Jack supplied. "Seems he was spying for you. Forgive me if we don't trust your agent right now."

Again Oscar shook his head in disbelief.

"You have so much to learn, General," Oscar said. "Dr. McKay is not my spy. If it will make you feel any better, I will tell you all about my spies."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Sorry if the story is dragging. It is a balance between keeping things moving and resolving big problems too quickly and easily.

Another member of SG1 returns to the story in the next chapter or two. Hope you stay tuned.


	38. Chapter 38 Recovery

"_But she can't be starving," Keller protested._

"_You refer to your nutrient mixture?" Oscar observed. "It is not sufficient, not for someone who is part Wraith. That is where I can help. The enzyme, the fluid we inject into our subjects, we have used it in our hive to increase the amount of time we can survive without nourishment. I believe Samantha needs this as well as your nutrients."_

_Jack got up from his chair and stood directly in front of the tethered Wraith. Towering over him, he said, "If you think you are placing any more Wraith stuff in her, you're crazier than I thought."_

"_I am not crazy," Oscar protested calmly. "I know what works in these situations because those of my family have suffered the same thing. We will administer a relatively small dose, simply enough to replenish her system. I believe that will temporarily restore her to you until we can manage a more permanent solution."_

* * *

Chapter 38: Recovery

Three days had passed since Oscar produced and processed an appropriate dose of the enzyme for Sam. After some soul searching, Jack and Jennifer decided to administer a combination of the enzyme and the nutrient solution to the languishing woman. Jack wished he could ask Sam what she wanted. He implicitly trusted her judgment on all things scientific. Besides she had a right to make the final decision. But it wasn't possible. She hadn't regained consciousness since her heart stopped. In fact, at the time the newly synthesized compound was administered, she was tethered to a ventilator, her continued life dependent upon a machine.

Jack remained by her side thirty-six hours straight following the infusion of the enzyme. He talked to her, kept silence with her, even prayed for her during those hours. At times he read the Testament, the historical tome Oscar had brought with him.

Shortly after producing the enzyme, Oscar was once more confined. To Jack's surprise, he hadn't protested, simply reminded them he'd be available if anything else was needed. As he sat with Sam, Jack realized Oscar was most likely biding his time, waiting to see whether his suggestion worked as well as he hoped. If it did, he would certainly see fit to demand a bit more freedom, perhaps even influence.

Towards that end of greater trust Oscar had done two more things. The first was to encourage Jack to read as much of the Testament as possible. Initially Jack was less than enthusiastic. Let's face it, reading an ancient text was much more Daniel's forte than his. But as he read, he was struck by the strength of seemingly human emotion emanating from pages written by a Wraith queen. This woman poured out her heart in these pages, grieving over the horrendous changes that had descended upon her people and the less than human things she herself had been forced to do.

Secondly, Oscar had revealed the identities of the spies, those who'd provided information about Atlantis. There were two it seems, but only one had served Oscar willingly. The other, Anita Lattimore had been an unknowing victim. During her brief capture by the Wraith on her way to Atlantis, she had been implanted with a monitoring device giving Oscar access to her thoughts, as well as her visual and auditory perceptions. It was through Anita that Oscar's hive had learned the exact location of the Alpha site.

The spy, the actual traitor, had sought out the role for his own aggrandizement. Investigation would prove he delighted in his task and in his deftly organized framing of Rodney McKay, a man who'd been anathema to him since they'd both been assigned to Atlantis nearly five years ago. Discrediting Rodney was supposed to have been one of his crowning achievements. Now even that had backfired.

OoOoOo

Sam woke up in the middle of the second day.

Once again, Jack had fallen asleep in his chair, his head falling forward onto her bed, near her hand. Without preamble, Sam opened her eyes, focused on the bowed head of her sleeping husband and smiled. Her first word was a softly whispered, 'Jack', unintelligible as it was spoken around the obnoxiously positioned, invasive breathing tube. When Jack failed to hear her, she gingerly raised her hand and began to stroke his forehead. That did the trick. Opening his eyes, Jack O'Neill was rewarded by the smiling face of his wife. And this time her eyes were clear, the cerulean blue orbs meeting his with unrestrained glee.

In all honesty, Jack initially feared his eyes were playing tricks on him. It was too good to be true. With a bit of trepidation, he called for Keller or one of her staff to examine Sam. To his delight, she passed that examination with flying colors, well enough to warrant the removal of her breathing tube and a tentative loosening of her restraints. Once the irritating tube was removed, Sam swallowed hard and focused on Jack's face again. The simple "Hi" she hoarsely uttered was a welcome gift to a worried man. Maybe, just maybe, Sam was going to make it after all.

Jack and the medical team remained cautiously optimistic over the next twenty four hours. To their pleasant surprise, Sam appeared to gain strength rapidly. By the morning after her initial awakening, she sat up and asked for breakfast. At that point, Jack would have made her his infamous beer omelet if he could have done so without leaving her side. As it was, she had to settle for a clear liquid breakfast, exciting nourishment like apple juice, Jello and tea. It was a simple menu, at least until Jack insisted on Sam's favorite blue Jello. It was the least he could do.

She'd eaten with gusto. In those few moments, Jack saw the return of the vivacious, enthusiastic women he'd loved and married. Sure, she bore the emotional and physical scars of her ordeal, chief among them the feeding aperture. Sam was far from home free, but she was Sam. In the few moments of conversation they'd had, it was clear much of her memory had returned. She remembered people and events, things she and Jack had done together. And from what he could tell, she remembered "Jack and Sam", the couple they'd become, with beautiful clarity.

Sam looked at him with such love, there was no other explanation. As that day went on, she talked with Jack about her memory of capture and her struggles prior to the cardiac arrest. While he listened, Jack O'Neill was repeatedly reminded of what he'd read in Llocha-re's Testament. The feelings, the fears, Sam remembered mirrored those of the ancient Wraith Queen. Jack didn't know whether to be amazed or infuriated. It seemed this had been the plan all along.

He made a mental note to get Daniel out here to help interpret Llocha-re's writings.

Sam's gradual recovery and her painful experiences now made the Testament required reading.

OoOoOo

On the third day, with Jack's help, Sam broke out of the infirmary. She needed to stretch her legs; at least that was her excuse. In reality, she wanted a look see at the formula she'd been given, the elixir which had temporarily restored her to health.

Much as he'd been tempted to give in to her insistence they get out while the getting was good, Jack had insisted on notifying Keller of their plans. The doctor deserved to know what her patient was doing. Besides, as a Major General he could always pull rank if it came down to that. Sam would have her moments of freedom.

And so she did. Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed to let Sam spend an hour in her lab, so long as Jack was her constant companion. Under protest, she'd also provided a sample of the enzyme/nutrient mixture for Sam's examination. Knowing Jennifer was far from happy to let her out of her sight quite so soon, Sam thanked her profusely, promising to be back within an hour – or so. Jack gave his word as a superior officer.

Sam's curiosity was personal of course, but also scientific. To know that the addition of the Wraith enzyme had caused such a positive change in her condition was intriguing. She wasn't "high" or feeling extraordinary, but rather her old self. She wanted to know what was going on. Of course she trusted Jennifer and her medical team to figure it out, but as of now, Keller admitted she didn't know why it worked; she'd simply been desperate to try something. What's more, she'd reminded Sam the effect was most likely temporary. A lasting cure would take more research, and, likely collaboration with Oscar.

Now Sam could have examined the compounds in Keller's medical research area, but that wouldn't have gotten her out of the confines of the infirmary. So with Jack by her side, she made her way to the laboratory areas she'd recently shared with none other than Rodney McKay. Both she and Jack had assumed no one was home.

They'd assumed wrong.

"Sam…," Rodney greeted her, looking up from what he was doing. "I thought…"

"You thought I was in the infirmary?" Sam supplied.

Rodney nodded.

"I was," she said. "Jack sprung me," she added, turning to flash Jack a grateful smile.

"She made me do it," Jack said teasingly. "By the way, I thought we had you in the brig."

"You did," Rodney replied. "Seems I got sprung too."

"It's good to see you Rodney," Sam said. "How'd you get out?"

"It's a long, sad story actually," Rodney replied. "You probably remember how I struggle with a bit of paranoia when it comes to other people," he said, speaking directly to Sam. Sometimes I suspect their motives, wonder if they're trying to undercut me. Anita tells me I'm too sensitive. Always have been you know …"

"Rodney…"

"Well, it seems I had a good reason to be paranoid. Just when I was beginning to let go of my suspicious nature, that little twit Kavanaugh decides to make me his patsy."

"Kavanaugh's the spy?" Jack asked. "That's what the Wraith said?"

"Yeah."

"And Sheppard believed the Wraith?"

"Well, even Sheppard's more suspicious than that," Rodney said. "It seems Dr. Kavanaugh doesn't respond well to interrogation."

"He gave it up that easily?" Sam asked.

"Word has it Ronon gave him his mean look and the guy caved," Rodney said with some satisfaction. "I've got the feeling that's only the beginning."

"You've got that right," Jack agreed. He was going to have a few words with the traitorous scientist. Ronon's anger would look mild compared to what Kavanugh would face from Jack O'Neill.

OoOoOo

Aboard the hive of the Testament, Oscar's Beloved waited with barely controlled anguish. The fate of her consort was unknown. In the best of situations, there would be no communication for at least a fortnight. That would be as planned. Oscar had insisted there be no covert communication, but hoped the humans would trust him enough to allow open communications within that period of time.

The visiting queen was not helping her anxiety. She appeared to take a perverse pleasure in regaling her host with tales of the torture the humans were most likely perpetrating on Beloved's chosen. Insisting these humans would never be trustworthy, the allied queen was quickly outstaying her welcome.

Finally, 'Beloved' had had enough.

"And you claim to revere the Testament?" She confronted the visitor. "How can you revere something you so clearly do not believe?"

."I believe in the truth of Queen Llocha-re's testimony," was the 'Ally's' answer. "I am not so certain of the ethics of the humans. It has been tens of thousands of years. They have changed. They are cunning and ruthless. I worry for our people."

"I too worry, my sister," 'Beloved' said. "But we must take the risk. Oscar was willing to undertake this mission for the sake of our people. We will wait the fortnight. If there is no word then, we will take action.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews. So good to hear from you.

More Jack and Sam next chapter, and I think, Daniel arrives.


	39. Chapter 39 Reflection

_Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed to let Sam spend an hour in her lab, so long as Jack was her constant companion_

_Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed to let Sam spend an hour in her lab, so long as Jack was her constant companion. Under protest, she'd also provided a sample of the enzyme/nutrient mixture for Sam's examination. Knowing Jennifer was far from happy to let her out of her sight quite so soon, Sam thanked her profusely, promising to be back within an hour – or so. Jack gave his word as a superior officer. _

* * *

A/N: And now for a little fluff, a little business and hopefully a little plot advancement for all you loyal readers.

Chapter 39: Reflection

It was 0100 hours. The infirmary was shrouded in eerie darkness, blanketed by virtual silence. The only ambient light in Sam Carter's cubicle came from the equivalent of two night lights designed to prevent her tripping over obstacles should she get up in the middle of the night. As for the silence, the only break from the abject absence of sound was the gentle, almost too quiet beep of the small portable machine charged with monitoring her vital signs. To Sam's way of thinking, it was unnerving.

Ever since the infusion of what Jack had christened the "magic elixir", Sam had been feeling like her old self. Still, Jennifer insisted the recently disabled leader of Atlantis remain in the infirmary area at least another couple of nights. Keller was intent on monitoring her for a possible relapse; even Oscar had admitted the effects of the enzyme would be temporary.

Sam was far from happy about the restriction. But Jack had backed Jennifer and the die was cast.

_Traitor, _Sam had whispered in Jack's direction when he'd all but ordered her to comply with the physician's directive. It wasn't fair for her husband to side with Keller. She was outnumbered and as far as she was concerned they were both being overprotective. Of course, Jack had promised to stop by and keep her company, but still …

"Hey…"

_What? Who? _Sam wondered as she heard a rustling on the other side of the privacy curtain. Actually a better question would have been _who else_?

"Jack?"

A familiar face peered around the curtain, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"And who else would you be expecting at this hour of the night?" Jack querried..

Sam smiled for a moment, that sunshine bright smile that stole his heart years ago and held it hostage ever since. Then, she decided to play along. It had been a long time since she'd been in a teasing mood, but two could play at this game.

"Actually, I was dreaming about one of the handsome young medical techs," she teased, doing her best to sound flippant. "You know Jennifer wants me closely monitored. I thought he'd be checking in again soon. But, it's just you, I guess," she finished, feigning disappointment.

"Cute," Jack said. He was clearly not as amused as she'd hoped.

_Spoil sport_, she thought.

"You're stuck with me," Jack continued.

Sam smiled.

"Not that I mind," she said, "but what are you doing here?"

"I'm lonesome," Jack said. "It's a big bed in your quarters, a big _empty_ bed."

Sam shook her head, doing her best not to giggle. Without further ado, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of her narrow infirmary issue bed.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"'Fraid not," he admitted. "Can't stop thinking about what we found in the lab."

"The lab?" Sam groused. "You're thinking about lab samples, not about me?"

"Well," Jack defended himself sheepishly, "they are kind of related – your samples and all."

She smiled warmly as Jack took a seat next to her on the bed. He could always make her smile; he warmed her heart when she most needed it. Now, with his body snuggled against her own, his arm around her shoulder, she felt safe and loved.

"It _was _amazing, wasn't it," she finally agreed. Sam had to admit what they'd seen in the lab before Jennifer so rudely interrupted them had been keeping her awake tonight. She couldn't stop going over the results in her mind. "It's too bad Jennifer made us leave when she did."

"We _were_ well over the one hour allotment she gave us," Jack admitted.

"How could I leave something like that?" Sam asked incredulously. "How could she expect me to leave? Wasn't it amazing? The quantum flux between the Wraith compound and my tissue sample was totally unanticipated! The similarities, the level of attraction between the subatomic particles, well, it's as if they belong together. I wanted to …"

Sam couldn't help noticing how Jack's eyes glazed over as she spoke. _Déjà vu_, she thought.

"Yeah … amazing," Jack parroted.

"Okay, what I'm saying is," Sam began again, "we're on the verge of a breakthrough, an answer to questions about the relationship between our two species."

Jack didn't look all that impressed.

"More importantly," he asked, "do you think this 'answer' will cure you?"

"Eventually, I believe it will," Sam replied.

"How _eventually_?" he persisted.

"I'm going to need more than an hour to answer that one," Sam responded. "And much as I hate to admit it, the molecular biologists on Jennifer's staff are more qualified to see this through than I am."

With that, Sam hopped off the bed and began to walk about the small cubicle. Jack knew that incredible mind of hers was working overtime. No wonder she couldn't sleep. It was another one of those things he loved about her. Once she was on the trail of an important insight, she'd never let it go.

"Tell me about Oscar," she said. "I haven't seen him here on Atlantis. Why did he come?"

"He claims the Wraith want a cure too," Jack said, skepticism still dripping from his words. "As he puts it, they 'want freedom from their human food supply'."

Sam looked at him, but she was a thousand miles away. Then she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she'd put two and two together.

"That's why he did what he did to me, isn't it," she stated, rather than asked.

"Seems that way," Jack answered. "At least that's his excuse. Don't know if we can believe him."

"Makes as much sense as anything else, doesn't it?" Sam asked rhetorically. "Otherwise why come here? He surrendered for crying out loud. He must have known how we'd react."

Jack smirked. He loved it when she did that. Showed he was growing on her. _Sweet!_

Deciding not to dwell on her use of his trademark phrase, he continued the conversation with a simple acknowledgement.

"Yes, of course he knew," Jack said. "But he claims he needs our help."

"From what I saw in the lab, he does," Sam agreed. "At least if he's truthful about wanting to stop feeding on humans, he needs our genetic material in order to have a chance of reversing the evolutionary changes that led to their dependence in the first place. They'll need live, fresh genetic material to combine with their own."

"You really think they _want_ to stop being Wraith?" Jack asked.

"No, not stop being Wraith," Sam said, looking directly at him while she paced the confined area. "Stop attacking other sentient beings for food."

"Thought they were into that, part of their culture and all, as our friend Daniel would say," Jack countered in his off-handed, flippant tone.

"I don't think so, Jack," Sam said definitively. "I'd say feeding off us is morally and physically repugnant to most of them. I know it was to me."

"You're not Wraith, Sam," he said. Intent on making his point, Jack got to his feet, walked up to Sam and took hold of her by the shoulders. "You could never be like them."

"I'm not so sure," she said sadly. "As I understand it, for all intents and purposes, Oscar's experiment made parts of me exactly like them. My digestive system became exactly as the Wraith's nutrient absorption organs are. And I experienced the compulsion to feed."

Face to face, seeing the regret and guilt in her eyes, Jack pulled his wife into a tight embrace. He had no idea what to say. Still, as always, physical gestures were his most powerful means of communicating his feelings. At this moment, what Jack wanted most was to shield the one he loved from pain. If he could do that with his body, he would. But something told him, it wouldn't be enough to ease the emotional turmoil raging through her as she recalled recent events.

"I killed a young woman, Jack," she spoke the words of condemnation against his shoulder. As her breath traced a shuddering path along his neck, she continued, "I killed her to satisfy my hunger, nothing more. I can't judge _them _anymore. I've done the same thing."

He'd known. Denny and the others had told him what happened aboard the Hive ship. Even Sam had reported what she'd done days before she'd regained her memory. But today was different. His wife, her memory intact, was talking about what had happened, about what she'd done.

Jack was glad he'd had the time to process his own feelings of disgust and outrage over the past few days. He'd come to the conclusion that Sam was still Sam. His outrage had found a home where it belonged, with the Wraith who'd done this to her. Now it was about helping Sam live with the guilt.

"It wasn't your fault," he offered lamely, hearing the words as hollow even as he said them.

"But I did it and I fed on others before I came to Atlantis."

"And Denny tells me you stopped short on both of those occasions."

"With great difficulty …," Sam replied thoughtfully. Sighing deeply, she raised her head off his shoulder and pulled back far enough to look him in the eye.

"Maybe that's what it's like to be an addict," Jack suggested. "Remember the planet with the incredible light show, the Goa'uld pleasure palace where we all became addicted? Remember how hard it was to pull away."

Sam nodded, then built on what Jack had started.

"I remember," she said. "I felt I had to continue to stare at the light or I'd die. It's like that with feeding. In a strange way, it's a feeling of great power and well being. If I'd stayed aboard the hive much longer, it would have become easy. Everything fell away, Jack. I didn't remember who I was. I could barely remember why I _shouldn't_ be feeding."

"But you stopped."

"Yes, I did," Sam said, finally pulling away from the safety of Jack's arms and taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable metal chairs provided for visitors. She settled in and proceeded to stare blankly out the glass partition of the small, still dimly lit cubicle. Jack decided to give her some space. Fighting his dominant instincts, he stayed where he was, waiting for her next move. Silence was hard for Jack; he wanted to say something, anything, to make it better. Still he resisted and waited for her.

"I hated myself," Sam voiced. The admission was no more than a solitary whisper in the dark. "I hated myself for what I was doing. And it was all I could think about, feeding … I should have been able to resist."

Her last words were again little more than whispers. Sitting in the shadows, her face highlighted by the glow of light just beyond the glass partition, in Jack's eyes she was a beautiful as ever.

"You did resist," Jack said, knowing it was true. "You resisted as long as possible." When Sam didn't acknowledge the words he calmly stated as fact, he walked over to where she sat. As gingerly as he could, he got down on his knees before her and took her face in his hands.

"Look at me, Samantha _O'Neill_," he said in a stern voice that reminded her of Jacob Carter in his General mode. "You did all you could do. You were forced against your will. We've seen it happen before. I've been there. You know I have."

She nodded, smiled wanly and leaned into his hands, savoring the comfort and acceptance he offered. After a moment or two, she pulled herself together and took action to prevent permanent damage to her husband's aging knees.

"Come on, get up," Sam said, standing up and starting to pull Jack with her. "Stay in that position long and you won't be able to move." Once they were standing, Sam kept talking.

"If my choices were limited, so are theirs, Jack," she said soberly. "That's what Oscar was trying to show me … us. I might not agree with his methods, but I think he proved his point."

Sam didn't expect Jack to agree with her assessment. Seeing the enemy as having feelings, worries and morals of their own was sometimes a difficult stretch for her General husband. She didn't know about the unorthodox reading he'd been doing courtesy of Oscar.

"You might be right about that," he said unexpectedly. "Stay put, I've got something to show you."

You could have knocked Sam over with a feather, she was that surprised by Jack's response.

"I'll come with you," she volunteered eagerly.

"Let's not get Jennifer anymore aggravated than she already is," Jack countered calmly. "It's a book; I'll bring it to you. Oh, and turn up the lights, we're going to need them."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks once more for reading and reviewing.

And yes, I really am getting Daniel in soooooon….


	40. Chapter 40 Cooperation

_"If my choices were limited, so are theirs, Jack," she said soberly. "That's what Oscar was trying to show me … us. I might not agree with his methods, but I think he proved his point."_

_Sam didn't expect Jack to agree with her assessment. Seeing the enemy as having feelings, worries and morals of their own was sometimes a difficult stretch for her General husband. She didn't know about the unorthodox reading he'd been doing courtesy of Oscar._

_"You might be right about that," he said unexpectedly. "Stay put, I've got something to show you."_

_You could have knocked Sam over with a feather, she was that surprised by Jack's response._

_"I'll come with you," she volunteered eagerly._

_"Let's not get Jennifer anymore aggravated than she already is," Jack countered calmly. "It's a book; I'll bring it to you. Oh, and turn up the lights, we're going to need them."_

* * *

Chapter 40: Cooperation

Jack and Sam stayed up the rest of the night doing their best to decipher parts of the Testament, actually the parts already translated by Oscar and Atlantis' computers. (Needless to say, neither of them spoke nor read Wraith, so a first hand reading and interpretation was out of the question.)

Once Sam was introduced to Llocha-re's writing she realized why Jack was so receptive to a surprising new way of seeing the Wraith.

"It's pretty heady stuff, isn't it?" Sam observed. "Llocha-re sounds human. In fact, if we believe what she has to say, she was human at one point."

"It makes me think differently about them," Jack replied. "Sure, they're still life sucking vampires, but… I don't know ... that's not _all _they are anymore."

"I wish we could understand more of it," Sam said. "I have to admit, I'd be careful of taking Oscar's translation at face value."

"From your lips to God's ears, Colonel," Jack replied cryptically.

Sam looked at him expectantly. He knew something he hadn't shared with her.

"I told Daniel to get out here as soon as possible," Jack finally revealed. "He should be arriving any minute now."

"Really," she grinned. "That's great. It'll be good to see him. _And,_ with his help, the facts may get a little clearer."

"Yeah … in fact…"

Before he could finish the thought, Jack's radio sprang to life.

"Sir, there's a visitor arriving from the SGC," the gate technician announced, a bit more loudly than necessary. "General Landry requests you be here to meet him."

Jennifer was standing just outside the infirmary door. Overhearing the communication, she couldn't help but smile

"You two might as well go," she said to Jack. "You kept her up all night anyway."

As they made their way to the gate room, the O'Neills didn't bother to look guilty.

OoOoOo

All seemed quiet in the Pegasus Galaxy. Since the destruction of the Alpha site, no external emergencies had popped up to claim the attention of the Atlantis expedition. Exploratory and diplomatic missions went on as usual, but there'd been no recent military deployments.

That was fortunate.

Even before Daniel's arrival, circumstances _within_ Atlantis itself had been changing at the speed of light.

Anita Lattimore, falsely accused of collaborating with the Wraith, had been cleared of suspicion. It hadn't been easy, but a sophisticated PET scan had proven Oscar's claim: a covert monitoring device had been implanted in the psychologist's brain. With Oscar's direction and Anita's enthusiastic consent, Keller had removed it without complication.

As for the other falsely accused member of the expedition, Rodney McKay had enjoyed his revenge. He'd accompanied one very agitated General O'Neill to interview David Kavanaugh. McKay had watched as Kavanaugh, a coward at heart, squirmed under O'Neill's barely controlled rage. Rodney genuinely suspected O'Neill was going to punch the guy. As much as he'd love to see that happen, Rodney knew there'd be repercussions Jack didn't deserve. As it was, the Air Force was pressing criminal charges against the civilian scientist. Whether or not charges were ever filed, the man's career was over. Given the classified information involved, it was possible Kavanaugh would never again see the light of day.

Almost as satisfying as O'Neill's outraged confrontation with the little twit was Kavanaugh's nonplussed conversation with a clearly disdainful Oscar. The upstart scientist couldn't believe his handler had turned him in. The icing on the cake was the way Oscar utterly dismissed the arrogant, pony-tailed young man, briefly describing as worthless anyone who would turn traitor to their own people. If he weren't so angry, Rodney might have felt sorry for Dr. Kavanaugh. As it was, he remembered the phrase "Revenge is a dish best served cold." And he savored the taste.

Then, wonder of wonders, Oscar had been allowed to communicate with the Hive of the Testament. Of course the communication was monitored, but Oscar made no complaint in that regard. For once, he had nothing to hide. He was simply grateful to be allowed communication with Beloved and those who shared his dreams for the future of the Wraith. His only purpose was to let them know the negotiations were underway, that the humans were talking in good faith. And, of course, he was still alive.

In that long awaited moment, Oscar once again glimpsed the face of his Queen. The vision spurred him onward, despite his rapidly deteriorating physical condition.

Wraith could survive an average of three weeks without feeding. It had been two. The fortnight had been completed as Oscar had predicted. And his energy was waning rapidly. He had no fantasy that the humans would allow him to feed while on their territory, nor would he expect them to do so. If his death was the price required for completion of his mission, then so be it. Others of his kind would survive to reap the benefits.

It would be more than worth the sacrifice. Still, he needed to survive long enough to assist the humans. For that, he would need their help.

OoOoOo

Daniel Jackson didn't have to be asked twice. Atlantis was one of his favorite places. Well currently, it _was_ his favorite place. And in the grand scheme of things, he'd spent very little time there. Even once Sam took her position as military administrator, he'd been unable to finagle an assignment. So when his good friend Jack O'Neill called, telling him to get packing, he'd jumped at the chance. Within an hour, Daniel was on his way, chock full of excitement.

When he arrived, Jack and Sam were there to meet him. Though Daniel had been briefed regularly on Sam's recovery since the rescue, he was relieved to see her looking as well as she did.

"Sam…," he called, meeting her halfway for a warm, friendly hug.

"Daniel," she said. "Thank you for coming."

"Hey, you two," Jack protested, walking alongside the pair. "What am I, a Jaffa joke?"

Sam looked up from Daniel's embrace, staring quizzically at her husband. _That wasn't even funny, _she thought.

"Um… sorry, Jack," Daniel said, smiling knowingly at Sam and going over to greet Jack more formally.

"Daniel," Jack greeted. "Hope you're ready to work."

"Nice to see you, too, Jack," Daniel countered.

"Sorry," Jack said. "You know how excited I get about this historical research stuff."

"Right," Daniel said, recalling Jack's lack of patience when it came to the painstaking tasks of archeological science.

"In this case, I mean it Daniel," Jack said. "I need you to get right to it."

"He means it, Daniel," Sam parroted.

"I suppose I don't get the update tour first," Daniel whined.

"We need your expertise to help us find a cure for Sam," Jack said simply.

"Okay," Daniel replied. "In that case the fifty cent tour can wait. Let's get to work."

OoOoOo

Without further ado, Daniel set to his task. Before beginning his independent translation, he insisted on a repeat carbon dating procedure to document the exact age of the Testament. After all, if it were all a forgery, reading the correct words would hardly matter. As luck would have it, Daniel's more painstaking procedure dated the text within one hundred years of the initial testing, smack dab in the middle of Llocha-re's reign.

Soon, with the linguist's help, the Atlantis team was able to read the remainder of the ancient Wraith document without worry Oscar was translating it in a way to fit his own purposes. As it was, everything they read confirmed what Oscar had been trying to tell them, namely that the Wraith had suffered too. And those seen as predators wanted relief.

Certainly, this knowledge did little to absolve the Wraith of blame when it came to the horrific loss of human life that had occurred over millennia. But hearing the echo of Llocha-re's words and hopes for her people, words penned tens of thousands of years ago, went a long way toward building a foundation for trust and negotiation. At one time in the distant past, the two species had been more alike than they were different. Now there was common ground. For both Wraith and human that was something altogether new.

Daniel, always the wide-eyed explorer, was mesmerized by the historical drama he saw unfolding in the pages of the Testament. For all intents and purposes, the writings documented evolution on a scale previously unknown. The long dead Wraith queen had succeeded in recording not only the factual changes, but her emotional reactions to those changes. It was incredible. Within his first few hours of work, Daniel was hooked. He wanted, no needed, first hand experience of this species. This was an opportunity rivaling anything he'd learned from his study of the Goa'uld or the Ori.

At his insistence, Daniel was included at the next set of what were now called "negotiations" with Oscar. Since the Wraith's unexpected appearance on the base, even the most suspicious security personnel were beginning to see Oscar as a collaborator, an ally of sorts, whose purpose was to help in reversing what had been done to Colonel Carter. His manner and willingness to help had gone a long way toward covering the fact that he was the one who'd kidnapped and experimented upon the Atlantis leader in the first place.

Jennifer Keller consulted with him several times a day for her research. Now, Oscar was brought to her infirmary office for these meetings, allowed to leave his isolation cell, albeit in shackles and under guard. Even those precautions had begun to seem unnecessary. Oscar had been less than threatening lately. Actually, Keller was becoming concerned about his listlessness and lack of energy. Her concern had resulted in a new collaboration, one directed at providing alternate sustenance for Oscar.

Two days ago, McKay and Sheppard had presented their guest/prisoner/ally with a gift. It seems McKay had designed a glove for the Wraith like the one he'd made for Sam. Though a much larger size, it served a similar purpose: protecting its wearer and others around him from the Wraith compulsion to feed. For that reason, though its direct benefits to him were questionable, Oscar meekly agreed to wear it. It helped others feel safe around him; better yet, it kept them safe from him.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Oscar to sublimate the burning hunger within, especially in the midst of so many humans. He could not sabotage his mission now. He wouldn't stand for it. If the confinement provided by the glove helped, all the better. He would do whatever it took.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Please push the little button to review, ask questions, make comments etc. My muse and I love to hear from you.


	41. Chapter 41 Understanding

A/N: Many thanks to a faithful reviewer who suggested a chapter like this would be important to include. Please let me know what you think.

* * *

Chapter 41: Understanding

"I need to meet with him first," Sam said.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Probably not," she replied honestly, "but I need to do it."

Jack looked at her, appreciating once again the steel core of raw courage beneath the beauty and grace that was Samantha Carter O'Neill. She wouldn't let the latest trauma defeat her. The woman he knew and loved would never let Oscar's horrendous assault take away the essence of what and who she was.

Like everything else, Sam wanted to make sense of what had happened to her. Especially now, in light of Oscar's unexpected arrival in Atlantis and her own reading of the Testament, his wife needed to reconcile her violent abduction with Oscar's reportedly peaceful intent. To that end, she wanted to meet privately with her abuser before the general staff meeting scheduled for later today.

Jack O'Neill knew he couldn't stop her.

"Fine," he said. "But I'm coming with you."

"Jack …"

"Sam," he interrupted, "I'll stay in the background, even keep my mouth shut, but I'm not leaving you alone with him. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," she spat back at him. She knew her tone wounded him, but right now she was furious. She hated it when he took a command position with her. What's more, she didn't want him to see her as helpless, fragile, in need of protection.

Jack easily read all of this in her cutting tone and the set of her jaw.

"I know you have to do this, Sam," he said. "But I'm watching your six, like it or not."

"You still don't trust me, do you?" she asked, wondering how long it would take for him to regain confidence in her abilities. His answer surprised her.

"I trust you, Sam," Jack answered without a second thought. "I know you can take care of yourself. For crying out loud, it's the Wraith I don't trust. If anything …"

He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes locking with hers. He knew she understood. Their eyes, as always, said what they could not. In an instant Sam realized how she would feel were their roles reversed. Jack's reaction had nothing to do with her being strong or weak. It had to do with love.

OoOoOo

With Jack a silent presence in the far corner of the room and the entire interview monitored by Atlantis security over a closed circuit feed, Sam sat down with a shackled, gloved Oscar. Though he'd frequently been allowed out of restraints since donning the glove, Jack had insisted on the chains and cuffs while he was with Sam. Oscar hadn't protested. He understood implicitly.

"Samantha," Oscar began, after an awkward opening silence. "I am glad to see you looking so well."

"Yes, the enzyme seems to be helping," Sam replied flatly.

"Good."

Sam sat woodenly, clearly uncomfortable facing the Wraith who had caused her so much pain.

"You'll excuse me if I doubt your wishes for my good health," she finally said. "No matter how helpful you are now, I can't forget it was you who did this to me."

"I would not expect you to forget," Oscar replied, his voice quiet and sincere. "You are far too wise for that. I would only ask for your understanding and forgiveness."

At first, Sam was taken aback by the unexpected request. Then, regaining her mental footing, she asked, "What about the forgiveness of the woman I killed?"

Oscar studied the woman who had been his prisoner. She was formidable. Sitting before him, hands folded in perfect stillness on the table before her, she hid her fear well. He had been correct to choose her; she was strong physically and emotionally, a warrior of the highest caliber.

Then there was the other, her husband. Sitting unobtrusively in the shadows of the sterile interrogation room, General O'Neill was also a force to be reckoned with in this delicate dance. Oscar could sense the man's ambivalence, his protectiveness, his readiness to defend Samantha Carter. The emotional connection between the two was palpable. Oscar appreciated that, he understood it. It was how he felt towards Beloved, a female who, like Samantha, needed no one's protection.

It was time to reveal all. Enlisting the whole-hearted cooperation of this bonded human couple, the emotional leaders of the current Atlanteans, would make all the difference.

"She is not dead," Oscar replied.

"What do you mean? Sam asked.

"I mean she is not dead," Oscar repeated calmly. "I restored life energy to her, once you were removed."

"Is that possible?" It was Jack who spoke now; he couldn't help himself.

Sam turned slightly in her chair to face her husband.

"According to Sheppard, it is," she answered simply.

Then she returned her attention to Oscar.

"You expect me to believe that you did that?"

"No. Once again I do not expect your belief," Oscar replied, his voice uncharacteristically sad. "Nonetheless, it is true."

"If she lives, why would you let me believe I had killed her?"

"Because I needed you to understand the agony of my people," Oscar answered without apology.

Sam stared at him.

"You wanted me to feel guilt, to feel horror at what I had done?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I knew you would recoil, much as I did after my first feeding. I needed you to experience the compulsion of feeding again, in spite of your guilt. You had to understand the burden of my people."

Silence reigned in the small room as Sam absorbed Oscar's words. For a Wraith, he sounded sincere. There was no posturing, no egotistical statements of superiority, and no condescending retorts. Only what amounted to a cry for help. It was a very convoluted, unorthodox cry, but a cry all the same.

"I regret the distress I have caused you," Oscar said after a moment.

"Why did you restore my victim? Why tell me now?"

Slowly and deliberately, Oscar began his answer. "Each time I feed, Samantha, it kills a smaller and smaller piece of my soul. It is the same for all of us, whether or not we admit it. You have already given more than could be expected for my experiment. I would not take your soul as well.

"Again, I beg your forgiveness. We believed it was the only way to accomplish our goal."

"Your goal?" Jack interrupted again. "What exactly is your goal?"

"Jack…" Sam made to protest.

"It is a fair question, Samantha," Oscar admitted. "My goal is an honorable alliance between my people and yours. Such an alliance would work towards peace between our species and an end to the Wraith dependence on humans as food."

"And I suppose your hive has the influence to convince the others to accept such an arrangement," Sam said.

"Not completely," Oscar admitted. "Some of my people, even those outside my hive, believe as I do. They reverence the Testament. Others, let's say, they have become content with the status quo. They will take convincing. We will need to show them the freedom they stand to gain. And the benefits of that freedom will have to outweigh what they will lose in power and intimidation. But we are an intelligent, reasonable species. We will see sense and reason once it is presented.

"But first we need a cure," Sam said.

"Yes, that's true," Oscar echoed. "First we need a cure."

Sam studied the tall, thin, white haired creature sitting across from her. His hands manacled together, a huge protective "McKay" glove fitted seamlessly to his right hand, he appeared harmless enough. Yet her experience had taught her differently. He _had_ harmed her. And by his own admission, like his brother Wraith, he'd killed countless other humans. To trust him now … perhaps it was foolhardy, even unthinkable. But were her choices any better?

"You're sick too, aren't you?" Sam asked. She couldn't help but notice the way Oscar leaned heavily against the table.

"I am starving," he answered without emotion, "as you were a few days ago."

"You need to feed," she reflected matter-of-factly.

"I do, but I will not," Oscar said. "Your Dr. Keller is pursuing an answer. She has given me nutrients and supplements she believes may help. This afternoon, she will try something she calls a transfusion."

"Giving you blood …"

"Yes. She believes some distillation of human blood might sustain me for a time … a temporary solution perhaps … much like our enzyme is for you."

Though he remained silent, Sam swore she could hear Jack's thoughts.

_Vampires, I knew they were vampires._

Sam laughed softly, in spite of herself. Jack was so predictable.

Oscar understandably mistook her reaction.

"You find my predicament amusing?"

"Yes … no, of course not," Sam sputtered. "I'm sorry, I was distracted." Then, "We have a lot to learn about each other if we're ever going to work together."

"Yes, we do," Oscar agreed. "I would like to begin that process."

Sam nodded. "I believe we have already begun."

TBC


	42. Chapter 42 Resistance

Chapter 41: Resistance

A/N: For those of you enjoying the Wraith backstory, there's more in this chapter for you.

* * *

Chapter 41: Resistance

In Atlantis' main conference room, the players were assembled.

Richard Woolsey, still the titular leader of Atlantis, had insisted upon meeting with everyone directly involved with Oscar during his time on the base. Although others were becoming more used to him, Woolsey remained cautious. The sight of the alien walking through the main building's passages without shackles, glove or no glove, guard or no guard, gave him pause. He wanted to get on top the action. The fact that his senior personnel insisted on having Oscar present at least for part of the strategy session, made him more anxious than he could say. He'd indulge them for an hour or so, but then the Wraith would go back to his cell and the real discussion would begin

From what his people told him, continuing research had two simultaneous goals. Firstly, Keller and her team were intent on finding a long term cure for Colonel Carter's mutation. Then, as he understood it, they'd work to develop a vaccine which would allow the Wraith to metabolize non human foodstuffs. From Keller's explanation, the two goals were closely related and work on each would proceed simultaneously. They wouldn't be able to do one without making progress on the other.

In theory, it sounded good. Anything that hinted at peace and cessation of hostilities with these deadly, apparently ruthless aliens seemed promising. But was it too good to be true? To believe these horrible creatures wanted to stop preying on humans, well, it was a stretch. And Richard Woolsey was not the most trusting person in the universe. He'd seen too much deception and unexpected tragedy, much of it related to some leader's naïve belief in the basic goodness of creation.

As he saw it, his job on Atlantis was to be the voice of reason, preventing others from going off half-cocked and jeopardizing the ongoing viability of the expedition, or worse yet, the safety of Earth. Ever the loyal, ethical, above reproach administrator, Woolsey intended to do just that. He knew his approach seldom earned him points with the rank and file. It wouldn't win him any popularity contests here either. But if his skepticism could head off unnecessary loss of human life, he'd be glad for it.

In other circumstances, he'd have expected General Jack O'Neill to be in his corner on this. Never one to blindly trust the supposedly peaceful intentions of aliens, O'Neill had more than once saved Earth from the Trojan horse overtures of alien leaders. But this time, something was different. He'd read _that_ book and he'd talked with Colonel Carter. And shortly before this meeting, the O'Neills had insisted on a private conversation with the Wraith. That hadn't sat well with Woolsey. For some reason, they were buying what "Oscar" was selling.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Richard Woolsey swam against the tide. He could hold his own.

OoOoOo

She'd made her choice shortly before the last great hibernation.

As a queen, Beloved was set apart. From her earliest days, she'd been aware of her role in the Hive. Military leader, ferocious mother protector, progenitor, there was little room for her own wants or desires.

By this point in Wraith history, the Queens were the most revered of the few remaining female members of the species. Shortly after Llocha-re's reign, by a process of genetic engineering, the Wraith had abolished the need for sexual reproduction. The cultural shift had been so complete that within two hundred years of Llocha-re's death, it was exceeding rare for a male and female Wraith to mate in the traditional sense.

Their new coldly clinical methods of propagation made it much easier to create male specimens than female. Certainly, a species as technologically advanced as the Wraith could have managed to overcome that hurdle if they chose to do so. However, at the time, females had been most vocal in opposition of the feeding methods adopted by the species, some lobbying tirelessly for research to reverse what they considered a plague on their kind. The males, especially the war mongers among them, were glad that the protests of the females would die with them. For the most part, their kind would not be replaced, except to ensure a sufficient number of Queens.

And so began the absolute reign of the Wraith Queens. A single Wraith female, bred to be a hive queen, could produce enough genetic material to populate a hive. She would select breeders or consorts from among the strongest of the male population. They in turn would contribute selected genetic elements which would be combined with that of the Queen. The resulting embryos were nurtured within cocoon like sacs until they hatched young Wraithlings, most always male.

Though there was no longer such a thing as a Wraith family, there remained alliances between hive-mates, those who'd hatched around the same time, then grown into adulthood together. The lack of strongly bonded family units and parents linked emotionally to their offspring, made it easier to deal with the painful life and death decisions their limited food supply often forced on them. The Wraith Queen alone possessed the intensity of maternal feeling to feed her fierce protectiveness of the entire Hive.

As time went on, each queen was entitled to select one from among her consorts to be pre-eminent, her favorite, and if she desired, her mate. Beloved had selected Oscar. She'd done so in her youth. Now thousands of years later, she knew she'd chosen wisely.

An accomplished warrior and a brilliant scientific mind, Oscar shared her reverence for the Testament. Together, over the years, they'd produced hundreds of off-spring. But since Beloved's genome had been combined with that of at least two dozen other consorts as well, Oscar had no idea which members of his hive were his sons. Unlike her other consorts, Oscar was the one she sought out to speak of worries, concerns and dreams. He was the one she trusted when it came to plans for the Hive, offensive and defensive strategies. She valued his opinion above all others and saw him as an equal. Among the Wraith, theirs was a unique relationship.

When she'd finally heard from him at the end of his first fortnight with the humans, she was gratified and relieved. She'd fully anticipated his loss during the daring mission they'd planned. Indeed, that outcome might still come to pass. But for the time being he was alive. Moreover, he believed the humans were negotiating in good faith. Maybe, just maybe, Oscar's faith in his plan had been justified.

Not surprisingly, the Wraith also held strategy sessions following the initial communication from Oscar. There was much to discuss. The hives involved in the initial planning had communicated with others, at least indirectly. The free flow of information, or at least the Wraith version of the grapevine, was hard at work. And many of divergent opinions had weighed in over the past weeks.

Among the most vocal were Todd and Michael, Wraith well known to Atlantis. Each in his own way voiced opposition to Oscar's plan. By far, Michael's protest was the most strident. It could not be ignored.

OoOoOo

Back in Atlantis ...

The meeting's first hour passed peacefully enough. With his senior staff, the O'Neills and Dr. Jackson in attendance, Mr. Woolsey listened to a proposal for a joint medical venture with the Wraith, or at least Oscar's hive, intent on obviating any need for feeding on humans. On the positive side, since he'd last been briefed, Woolsey learned Dr. Keller had developed a promising new injection she would be testing on Oscar this afternoon. A combination of human stem cells and blood products, she'd hoped it would begin to usher in the metabolic changes needed for a long term cure. In the meantime, she'd reported positive results from the initial transfusions administered to Oscar earlier that week.

Keller's abilities continued to impress the IOA appointee. She was surprisingly young for the Atlantis posting, yet her ability to go with the unpredictable flow of events and keep up with the medical research needed to deal with the ongoing, out of the ordinary crises that presented themselves was impressive. In the past few weeks she'd managed to stabilize Colonel Carter's condition. Interestingly enough, she'd attributed some of her success to the Wraith's willingness to help. It was clear she was one of his staff who'd developed a grudging respect for Oscar.

Woolsey had to admit, Oscar presented himself in a very positive light. During the hour he'd sat at the table with the Atlantis staff he'd been forthcoming with helpful information about his people. It was clear he had no intent of betraying his people in any way. There was none of the "I'll give you the codes to disarm their defenses" talk that others had plied them with in the past. Rather he appeared to talk honestly of his desire to improve the lot of his people. That kind of talk was easier for Woolsey to believe. Self interest, he understood that. And if something to benefit the Wraith would also benefit Atlantis and the human race, in this case making exploration of the Pegasus Galaxy that much safer, he was all for it.

Now Oscar had been removed from the gathering, per his orders. Woolsey was alone with his people and all eyes were on him.

"The IOA needs to know we want to pursue this," Jack said without preamble. "To me, it sounds like our best chance to reach some sort of understanding with the Wraith."

"If you believe what he has to say," Woolsey said, deciding to play devil's advocate. "Our track record with the Wraith hasn't shown much in the way of veracity."

"I believe this is different," Teyla said, speaking up for the first time. "This particular Wraith presents an impressive argument for pursuing peace. It is something that would greatly benefit both sides." Teyla, now heavily pregnant, was undoubtedly due to deliver soon. Raising her child in a world where Wraith were no longer a lethal threat was an attractive possibility. She truly hoped it would be so.

"I agree." It was Daniel Jackson, a guest at the table, who spoke now. "Oscar brought an historical document with him. It's genuine: I'd stake my reputation on it. And it documents that fact that Wraith have sought deliverance from the feeding process for tens of thousands of years. It's not something made up by this particular Wraith to manipulate us. It's an opportunity for both sides."

"I think we should pursue this," John Sheppard said. "Hey, if it doesn't work we can always go back to trying to wipe them out."

Ronon and Jack shared a snicker over that comment. At least until Sam flashed her husband a disapproving look.

"I believe I have a unique perspective on this," Sam said.

All eyes turned toward her. Everyone at the table had been gratified to see Sam's recovery, particularly since Oscar's arrival nearly three weeks ago now. She was right, her perspective was unique.

"I've experienced the feeling this Wraith says he wants to escape," she said. "It's something you never want to know, believe me. Though a part of me fears and even hates him for what he's done to me, I believe him when he claims a desire to change things. I believe feeding has caused them pain as well. I know it's a pain I'd do anything to escape."

"You're not Wraith, Colonel," Woolsey replied. "Fortunately, you're human."

"Yes, she is," Jack added. "That's part of the reason I agree with her. The other part is she's earned our trust. And if Sam says we should give this a shot, I'm with her."

"What have we got to lose?" Rodney added.

"Nothing as far as I can tell," Jennifer said. "At the least we finish a cure for Colonel Carter and learn a great deal more about Wraith physiology."

"And, if we play our cards right, we help Oscar convince his brothers that freedom from their human food source is preferable to starvation," Daniel said.

"More than that," Sam said. "We show them _we_ can be trusted to help fulfill the dreams of the Testament."

"Alright," Woolsey said reluctantly. "We continue research efforts, in good faith. At the first sign that we are being set up, I want him out of here. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," John Sheppard answered for the group.

"And I want the Wraith locked up for the duration of his stay here."

Sam breathed deeply, rubbed her forehead and shook her head. Though she understood his caution, she believed Oscar had earned somewhat better treatment.

Without further ado, Woolsey stood to leave. Everyone followed his lead.

"One more thing, Colonel," Woolsey said, calling after Sam as she made to leave. "I hope you're completely healed soon."

"When that day comes, Mr. Woolsey," she responded. "I'm going to want my job back."

With a smile she turned on her heel and left the meeting room.

Jack wasn't far behind her. If Sam wanted her job back, Jack knew Woolsey had better start packing.

TBC

* * *

Thanks for sticking with the story…


	43. Chapter 43 Overdue

Chapter 43: Overdue

"No, Sir."

It was Jack's voice Sam heard as she entered her quarters.

The room was bathed in the gentle light of the computer video link. Jack's voice was raised but respectful in a stilted, barely restrained way.

"I'm not able to return at this time," she heard. Then a pause… "I'll keep you posted. For the moment I'm needed here … With all due respect, Sir… " Jack said, "I'll return as soon as Sam's situation has been resolved. Thank you, Sir."

Sam was silent for a moment, doing her best to interpret what she was hearing.

A subspace video transmission to her quarters, obviously for Jack, most likely involving his job as Head of Homeworld Security, had just been terminated. A limited number of people could have been on the other end of that call; Jack didn't call a lot of people "Sir" these days.

"Jack?" Sam ventured tentatively, hoping he'd volunteer some information.

Even as she spoke his name, Sam realized her husband was unlikely to say much of anything about what she'd overheard. Sure enough, he walked over to her silently, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Hi," he said innocently, deftly avoiding her unspoken question. "How was today's treatment?"

"It went well," Sam said, "no side effects as far as Jennifer can tell." She referred to her second infusion of stem cells earlier this morning. "But you're changing the subject," she observed, suddenly pulling back from his embrace. "Who called you?"

"Oh… him …that was the guy in charge," he replied.

Sam looked at him and shook her head. Her husband, the big bad Major General, could be such a little boy at times.

"You mean the Chief of Staff?" Sam tried to get more information.

"Higher…"

"Not the President," she suggested hopefully.

"That's the one," Jack replied.

"You told the President…"

"I told him I need to guarantee the stability of Atlantis before coming back to Washington."

"You've been here almost six weeks, Jack," she observed.

"Your point?"

Sam held her ground as he looked at her, refusing to back down.

"My point is you have responsibilities," she supplied. "I'm betting President Hayes is asking you to come home and do your job. He needs you."

"You need me," Jack said. "And I let him know you come first."

There'd been a time Sam Carter would have been furious with any man who implied she needed his support so badly. But the traumas of the past few weeks had taught her important lessons. And this wasn't just any man.

"Come on, let's sit," she said. With that, a self-assured, surprisingly fit, Sam Carter reached out and took her husband's hand, leading him to a chair at the side of the small desk she kept in her quarters. Once he was seated, she sat behind the desk.

"This looks serious," Jack observed, recognizing Sam's no nonsense look when he saw it.

"It is," she replied. "I'm trying to keep you from being fired."

She smiled.

"Jack, I love you. And I love that you've been here these past few weeks," Sam said. "I couldn't have survived without you."

"But…"

"But I'm better now, stronger," she said. "You can see that, I know you can. The therapy's working. And you're needed back on Earth." She waited and did her best to gauge Jack's reaction. He wasn't giving her much to interpret. Poker face or military mask, she wasn't sure.

"If it wasn't important, the President wouldn't have called, right?" Sam asked rhetorically.

"That's what he said," Jack admitted.

"We agreed not to let our relationship keep us from doing our jobs, remember?"

"That was before I lost you," he said, the façade cracking.

"You didn't lose me," she countered.

"You know what I mean," he said.

Of course she knew. And he knew what she was trying to do as well. She'd sat down at the desk for a reason. She wanted to remind him of their agreement. They'd promised each other their marriage wouldn't impact their abilities to do their jobs. When they'd first let their feelings out of that room, they'd agreed as much. Now she was calling him on it.

And she _was_ better. Shortly after the staff meeting where she'd unceremoniously announced her intention of getting her job back, Sam received her initial infusion of human stem cells. Keller explained that if all went as planned, these cells would gradually repopulate the lining of her digestive tract making it once more capable of absorbing traditional nutrients. At the same time, the physician and her research team were working with Oscar to reverse the genetic changes his experiment had wrought.

On both fronts, the intervention appeared to be working. Within a few days, Sam had noticed an increase in her energy levels after normal meals, a response sorely lacking ever since Oscar's experimentation. Even with infusions of the enzyme/nutrient elixir slowly decreased, then stopped, Sam appeared to be rapidly regaining her normal strength. Still, Jack couldn't help but worry she wasn't home free… not yet.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he finally responded. "You're better and you don't need me watching your six anymore."

Sam smiled gently, reaching across the desk to take his hand.

"I'd love to have you with me all the time, Jack, but …"

"You and I both know that can't happen," he finished for her, "at least not yet."

"Not yet…"

"But someday…"

She nodded.

"I should call him back."

"Probably."

OoOoOo

Jack O'Neill departed Atlantis for Earth later that day. Sam said goodbye privately shortly before Daniel and Richard Woolsey joined them in the gate room. Daniel was happily remaining as a cultural and linguistic advisor. Secretly, Jack had made him promise to look out for Sam as well.

Now, early the next morning, Mr. Woolsey was urgently paged to the gate room.

"What is it?" Richard asked irritably, less than happy to be so rudely awakened.

"Wraith Hive ship, Sir," the gate technician answered. "Long range sensors just detected its approach.

Before the slowly awakening Woolsey could react, he turned to see John Sheppard coming up from behind him.

"Hive ship?" John asked.

"Yes," Woolsey replied. "I wonder if your friend Oscar knows anything about this."

"As a matter of fact he does," John answered. "He received a transmission from his Hive earlier this morning. They're on their way. Oscar says they're coming on a 'matter of grave concern'. Says he wasn't given much more detail. Seems the queen wants to talk with us ASAP. Actually, she wants to talk with Sam."

TBC


	44. Chapter 44 Queen

Chapter 44: Queen

"He knew this?" Woolsey questioned. "Conference room, now.

"And Lieutenant," an agitated Woolsey added, "keep me posted on the progress of the Hive."

"Yes, Sir."

In a matter of seconds Woolsey and Sheppard had retreated to the isolated, private area of the conference room.

"Colonel, since when is a prisoner allowed covert communications with the enemy?" Woolsey asked testily.

"Sir," Sheppard said, "I was hoping we still didn't see him as a prisoner."

"I don't like repeating myself, Colonel," Woolsey said in retort. "How did the Wraith receive a transmission without us knowing about it?"

Sheppard pulled himself up sharply, deciding to do his best to answer the question.

"I'm not altogether certain, Sir," Sheppard answered sheepishly. He wanted Oscar's statements of peaceful intent to be sincere, but truth was the Wraith had smuggled in a hidden transmitter. "It seems he had an arrangement with the Queen. The transmitter would only be used in case of dire emergency."

"And you believe this?"

"Not completely, no Sir," Sheppard admitted.

Woolsey was less than happy.

"Bring him," he said. "And notify security."

OoOoOo

Moments later, Oscar, once again in shackles, stood before Sheppard and Woolsey. Two security officers were in attendance as well.

"I understand how my deception seems to you," Oscar ventured. "Yet it was necessary. I am a leader of my hive. My Queen must be able to depend on me. We are doing our best to survive in a perilous time. In my place, I believe you may have attempted a similar ploy. Am I right?"

Neither Sheppard nor Woolsey could deny Oscar's assertion. Still all three realized this incident set back any trust which may have been developing between the two species.

"So," Woolsey said deliberately, "exactly what was so important?"

Oscar looked puzzled, missing Woolsey's meaning.

"What you said," he attempted to clarify. "You told Colonel Sheppard the device was to be used in case of 'dire emergency'. What was so important?"

Oscar clearly understood him this time.

"My Queen has reason to believe we will soon be at war with our brother Wraith."

"I thought you guys were already at war," John interjected, "or at least arguing with each other."

"That has been the case," Oscar admitted. "However, my Queen informs me the situation has deteriorated. Our alliance with you has made my hive a target of several others, including the one you call Michael."

"How is that our problem?" John asked. _I didn't even know we had an alliance._

Oscar smiled and shook his head.

"Nothing has changed, has it? Do you not see? We work together or we die together," Oscar said. "Michael has amassed a formidable, blood thirsty army. He is bent on revenge. We are both his targets, Colonel."

"What do you want from us?" Woolsey asked.

"For now, allow my queen to speak with Samantha Carter," Oscar answered.

"Why?" Again it was Sheppard who spoke. "Why Colonel Carter?"

Oscar wasted no time in responding. To him, the answer was self evident.

"Because she will understand."

OoOoOo

With the highest security precautions in place, Oscar's Beloved was allowed access to Atlantis. Aboard a lone dart which she agreed to pilot herself, the Queen entered Atlantis airspace. There she was met by three fighters, her escort to a safe, secure landing area, the same landing pad that had hosted Denny and Oscar, not so long ago.

Surprisingly, she'd agreed to come alone, claiming she'd ordered her ship to leave orbit and await further orders.

_Not behaving like a Wraith Queen,_ John thought.

OoOoOo

Less than an hour after the Queen landed, her interrogation began.

"What are you doing here?" Richard Woolsey asked, doing his best to control his instinctive fear of the alien creature before him. Having Ronon and Sheppard along to back him up helped a great deal.

Waiting for 'Beloved' to respond, John Sheppard had to admit, she didn't look like a Wraith Queen. Well, she did, in a sense. There was the tall lanky look, the long stringy hair in the garish shade of red they seemed to favor. The long pale face with sunken features, it _was_ all there. It was the superior, condescending, threatening-your-continued-status-among-the-living look that was missing.

If it were possible, Sheppard would have said she looked afraid. That was refreshing, but hard to believe.

Then she began to speak.

"I need your help," she said humbly.

"With what exactly?" Woolsey asked without much empathy.

"Defending my hive."

"And we would want to do that because …" Sheppard asked.

"Because, Colonel, it is in your best interest,"she answered. "The same forces poised to destroy us stand ready to destroy Atlantis as well."

_Same song and dance we just heard from your friend Oscar_, John thought. _Now give me a reason to believe you._

"You mean Michael," Ronon supplied. "Michael's this force, isn't he?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Why now?" Ronon persisted.

"Michael and others have learned of our plan to restore the Wraith to a less predatory nature. He and others among the Wraith vehemently oppose what we are attempting. They will do anything to stop us."

"What do you want us to do?" Sheppard asked, now genuinely curious.

"Convince them," the Queen answered. "Convince them that we are right in what we want to do."

"I don't understand," Woolsey protested.

"Colonel Carter _will_ understand. I _must_ speak with her," 'Beloved' said.

Then, more softly, "Please, we need her help."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has patiently continued to read this story. I'm planning to bring **this part** of Sam's adventure to an end with the next and final chapter, entitled "Promise".

I have more story to tell (especially since Sam has yet to "Leave Atlantis"), but the focus will continue to shift. As Sam is now fairly well recovered, the story will focus more on the odyssey and continued evolution of the Wraith. So a good time, I think, to bring this story to a close (of sorts) and begin Part 2.

Part 2 will be entitled Promises to Keep. It will become even more of an SGA story and be posted on that site.

More about that at the end of the final chapter, "Promise", coming soon to a computer terminal near you!


	45. Chapter 45 Promise

"_Colonel Carter __will__ understand. I __must__ speak with her," 'Beloved' said._

_Then, more softly, "Please, we need her help."_

_OoOoOo_

Chapter 45: Promise

"Why me?"

Sam sat across a small informal lunch table from an alien she'd been taught to fear and mistrust. Beloved, the Wraith Queen, sat watching her carefully, alert for the slightest reaction. Whatever happened, the petitioning royal was ready to ask for what she needed and grateful Sam had agreed to see her in the first place.

Initially she'd wanted to decline the unexpected invitation. Woolsey had summoned her to the briefing room earlier that morning, shortly after the Wraith's arrival. He wasn't pleased, that much was clear. And as he talked, Sam could tell he had more on his mind than the questionable motives of the Wraith. He was upset she'd asked for Sam Carter.

Professional jealousy was something foreign to Sam, probably because she seldom had anything to envy. Still she had been on the receiving end on more than one occasion. And this was one of those times. Though Richard Woolsey was realistic about his shortcomings, he wanted to continue as leader of Atlantis. Sam's affirmative statement that she planned to get her job back had been less than welcome. So when Beloved passed him over in favor of speaking with Sam, his nose was out of joint. To his credit, he'd moved past the feeling and reached out to the woman Beloved wanted to see.

For her part, Sam hadn't exactly jumped at the chance to meet with the new Wraith visitor. After all, the Queen had selected her as the subject of Oscar's little experiment. Still, in spite of her natural misgivings, Sam was unable to resist hearing what Beloved had to say. And after her recent discussion with Oscar, she was ready to give the Queen the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, there was hope for something beside all out war between their species.

"You hide your fear well," Beloved said, breaking the silence between them. "I respect that."

Sam drew herself up sharply. She _was_ afraid. Though sitting tall in her chair, her face set like flint, with no sign of a tremor in her hands, she was afraid.

"You have no reason to fear me, Samantha," Beloved said. "See, I am in chains," she went on, raising her hands above the table to allow Sam to see the shackles. "See what your people have done to me. It doesn't matter. Even unchained I would not choose to harm you. You are too important to us. You understand in a way the others can't."

"Understand? You mean about feeding, the compulsion to feed," Sam correctly deduced.

"Yes, that is what I mean," Beloved replied, her voice soft and gentle, not at all the rasping challenge so familiar to Sam when she thought of Wraith. "You of the all humans understand the torment of my people."

"How will that help you?" Sam asked. "I'm told your hive will soon be under attack by other Wraith. How will my understanding help?"

Beloved made as if to get up from the table. She'd forgotten how she'd been bound to the seat before Sam was brought in. Huffing briefly in frustrated disgust, she settled in once more and began.

"I have a story to tell you, Samantha," she said. "Will you listen?"

"Of course," Sam replied. "That's why I'm here."

Beloved nodded.

"You know that females are rare among my people?"

"Yes," Sam affirmed. "As far as I know the only female Wraith we've met have been queens. Except for a young girl who'd been raised by a human, all the rest have been male."

"I remember that Wraithling," Beloved said. "It is a story told among my hive. Ellia, she would have died had she not been found by that human. It was an act of great bravery on his part, bravery and sacrifice. I am told Ellia eventually fed upon him and others."

"Yes that was before…"

"Before she took your retrovirus..."

"Yes, an early version of what Dr. Beckett was working on."

"It rapidly changed her, wiped up the human parts of her being."

"Yes, unfortunately it did," Sam admitted, her dismay showing as she recalled the horrific report she'd read on that incident.

"I am able to accept that, Samantha. Your people did intend to harm Ellia," Beloved said. "She would have faired far worse had my people found her; she would have been destroyed. The only females allowed to live past their change are the queens."

"Their change?"

"The age where they begin to require human sustenance," Beloved clarified.

"Of course," Sam said, "the Wraith begin life able to metabolize traditional foods. But why kill the females?"

"They are not needed," she said. "Many years ago, they became more trouble than they were worth.

Beloved witnessed the expected outrage on Sam's face. She'd known this woman would react in such a fashion to the injustice of her cold, matter of fact statement.

"What are you talking about?" Sam protested. "They are part of your people."

"But not valued, not needed," Beloved replied. "Ever since our blending with the Xioney, or the Iratus bug as you call them, the females have dwindled in importance and desirability. They are no longer needed to propagate the species and their sensibilities caused the Wraith to question who we were becoming."

"You're female," Sam protested. "I don't understand."

"I was selected," Beloved replied, "bred for my role as queen. In that way, my training, my perceptions, my beliefs were shaped from the moment of my emergence, my birth as it were."

"Then why are we talking? If you've been bred to accept what is, why are you here? What do you want from us, from me?"

"Experience, as well as breeding, shapes who we all are, Samantha," Beloved stated truthfully. "I was born to the Hive of the Testament. Mine is the Hive dedicated to preserving Llocha-re's thoughts and dreams. More than many of the others, I became enchanted with her words as soon as I could read on my own. I have used my considerable influence in the Hive to be sure others did as well."

"And now?"

"I noticed you did not ask how my actions and the actions of my Hive continued to be ruthless and bloodthirsty in spite of our devotion to Llocha-re," Beloved observed meaningfully. She truly needed no response. She simply needed Sam to know she knew.

It was Sam's turn to nod in agreement. She did understand. She understood how one person, faced with starvation and an imperious genetic command to feed might override the ethics, training and beliefs of a lifetime. If, as it had been with the Wraith, all of that person's supports confirmed and participated in the same heinous behavior, the despicable acts that resulted were predictable.

"What are you hoping to do?" Sam asked.

"Convince my people that there is another way available to them," Beloved said. Her voice was surprisingly low and warm. "Many yearn for the life described by Llocha-re, the life she lived before the Xioney. It was a life where we were not afraid of who we were, not afraid to be different, to have families and to love."

"And now?"

"Now, there is no such thing as family as we once knew it," Beloved said. "And love is seldom if ever found.

"But enough of this," the Queen said, realizing her time was running short and she needed to make her needs clear to this one. "We had hoped to wait until your people and ours had successfully developed a cure for the feeding. Oscar had done his best to insure he would be the first to experience the desired reversion. And when he did, he would show himself to our people. He would be a triumph, still Wraith in everyway, but freed of the compulsion to feed on those who were our ancestors."

"He's not there yet, is he?" Sam said. She realized Jennifer had yet to administer the final calculated dose of human stem cells.

"No, he isn't," Beloved replied after a brief delay where she appeared deep in thought, her mind reaching out to Oscar's now they were in such close proximity. "And even should your doctor's approach be totally successful, it would still leave my people dependant on yours for the necessary materials. That would not be acceptable."

"The stem cells?"

"Yes."

"We believe it will be possible to develop a reasonable alternative, one which would allow the use of synthetic materials the Wraith can produce without human assistance," Sam volunteered.

"Good," the Queen replied, "I hadn't heard that. There is much to be completed before we are ready to take this to everyone. Yet the timing is no longer mine to decide."

"That's where Michael comes in," Sam voiced her assumption.

"Exactly," Beloved said. "Michael was once part of our Hive. After he was converted by your Dr. Beckett, I am sad to say, we no longer welcomed his presence among us. From then on he began to hate us almost as much as he hated all of you. Or so we thought.

"It seems Michael still values his Wraith heritage and will do anything he can to preserve it in some form. When he heard we were working with the humans on a cure, he became agitated, distraught even."

"But if Michael is of your Hive, he'd be familiar with Llocha-re's writings, wouldn't he?"

"Of course," Beloved responded. "And so you wonder why he would not support finding a cure."

"Yes, exactly," Sam said. "I'd think he'd want us to succeed as much as you."

"Before his time on Atlantis, that would have been true," the Queen replied. "Now everything is different. Any attempt to find a cure working with the humans is suspect. He's determined to find his own answers, to develop his own race of Wraith, a hybrid race of creatures, creatures who will be free to take his revenge.

"Michael has spoken with me over subspace channels several times since he learned of our plans," Beloved continued. "Yet he refuses to meet with me face to face. He no longer trusts anything I have to say. He is convinced I am working with you to wipe out the Wraith, to make Wraith all human once again, as you did with him. If he must destroy Atlantis and my Hive to prevent that from happening, then that is what he will do."

"At the risk of sounding terribly self centered, where do I come in?" Sam asked.

"You will work with me to show him I speak the truth, that we have no intention of purging other Wraith characteristics from our genome."

"Why would he believe me?"

"Because of what you have suffered at our hands," the Wraith answered. "Because of what we did to you, he will know you understand. There will be a connection. I believe he will listen."

"Why should he even believe _that_ was true? For all intents and purposes, I'm back to normal now. I don't want to feed, I'm not Wraith."

"But you still have the mark."

Sam sat silently and took in Beloved's words. It was true, she still carried the mark. The feeding aperture was still there, reminding her of what had happened, of what she had become. Jennifer assured her it was no longer functional, but also told her most likely it would never fully disappear.

"The aperture, Michael will see it and know you understand."

Sam took a deep breath, doing her best to calm her warring emotions. She was still uncertain what this alien female wanted from her. _Wouldn't it be better to give them the vaccine and simply send them on their way, _she thought. _Why continue to be involved with them at all_? Still if she could help make this a success, it would be a major coup for humans as well as Wraith and the beginning of a formidable alliance.

Beloved looked at her expectantly.

"I'll need to talk with others," Sam said.

"Your husband?"

"Yes, I value his opinions, his experience," Sam said. "I'll speak with others as well."

Beloved appeared genuinely puzzled.

"Yet you are the one who truly understands," she protested. "What have they to say to you?"

Sam laughed ironically.

"A lot actually," she said. "We work as a team here. It prevents us from going off on impulse, on emotion. I've done that before, followed my own way when I was certain I was the only one who understood the situation."

Sam's mind replayed the disaster that was her involvement with Replicarter.

"I won't do things that way again," Sam said. "I've learned."

"Alright, I'll wait," Beloved replied, "but time is limited. Michael is preparing a "cure" of his own, one that will destroy us both. If he wins over the others before we do, our dreams of peaceful coexistence will be over."

"I'll do what I can to bring that peace. I promise, I will," Sam said. "But I'll need time to decide how to go about it. I hope you're willing to give me that time."

"Of course."

"Then we'll be talking again," Sam said simply. With that she stood up and left the room, ready to do what came next.

She didn't know what would happen, what decisions would be made. She wasn't sure where she'd end up, what she'd be doing in the next few days, let alone the next few months. She did know she had to talk with Jack. She did know it was unlikely she'd be taking back her old job. And she had a feeling she'd be getting to know the Wraith even better than she did now.

The adventure was only beginning.

The End

* * *

Thanks to all who've read this story, sticking with it through 45 chapters!

And special thanks to all of you who've reviewed along the way. Your encouragement made all the difference.

Please watch for Part 2: Promises to Keep. It will be posted on the SGA page of fanfiction net. It will follow Sam's adventures as she keeps her promise to Beloved. Never fear, Jack and other SG1 characters will appear as well.


End file.
